The Morgue Life Chose Me
by PolkaDotSocks93
Summary: Doctor Beth Greene is beginning her one year residency at the Atlanta Medical Examiner's office. Along the way, she meets a surly but brilliant homicide detective, Daryl Dixon. What will happen when these two have to work together on a major case? Will they become enemies, or will they be more than friends?
1. Chapter 1

**I started another story...Yay!**

Chapter One:

Beth Greene was standing in line to receive her diploma; she knew her name would soon be called.

She had done the impossible, even by her standards. She had worked tirelessly, graduating high school at seventeen, going to Georgia Tech in Atlanta, with a focus on biology. Her goal was entrance into the Emory University School of Medicine. They only required 90 hours of college credit with a 3.5 GPA for admission, and Beth worked tirelessly to achieve it. At just nineteen, Beth was accepted to Emory with 96 hours of college credit, and a 4.0 GPA.

That is where the real work began. She didn't know what she wanted to focus on, she just knew that she wanted to be a doctor. She wanted to help people, but she also knew that, because she was so shy, she didn't exactly want to "work" with people. That's when her sister, Maggie, suggested that she consider becoming a forensic pathologist.

"Working with dead people?" Beth had asked upon Maggie's suggestion.

"Yeah, murder victims and stuff. Great pay, good hours. You'd like it." Maggie told her. Once Beth did her research, she decided that _was _the path that she'd take. After an internship at the FBI crime lab, she decided that she definitely wanted to do it. Beth had wanted to help solve crimes anyway, before becoming a doctor. It was crime that made Rick Grimes, a dear family friend, a widower. Maggie, who was herself a lawyer working for the Fulton County District Attorney's Office in Atlanta, knew about crime and evidence all too well, and that is when Beth decided to solve crimes by evidence.

So, after four years of hard work and determination, she was set to do her residency with the Fulton County Medical Examiner's Office, under doctors Edwin Jenner, Carol Peletier, and Eugene Porter. She was so excited she could hardly contain herself, and then, she heard her name.

"Elizabeth Opal Greene!"The Dean announced. Beth walked forward, receiving her diploma, and saw her screaming family in the crowd. Her father, Hershel, who was a veterinarian, had never looked prouder. All three of his children had excelled; Shawn owned his own surveying company, Maggie was a lawyer, and now, Beth was a doctor. After graduation, the family celebrated with a lunch in Atlanta. Beth was joined by her parents, Hershel and Annette, by Shawn and his fiancee, Sadie, and by Maggie and her new husband, Glenn. Also in attendance were longtime Greene family friends, Otis and Patricia, and Rick, Carl, and Judith Grimes.

"I still can't believe you graduated, Bethy!" Hershel exclaimed, taking a bite of chicken parmesan. Beth had picked an Italian restaurant, and was digging into her ravioli.

"I can't either, Daddy. And I start work tomorrow!" Beth said happily, sipping her sweet tea.

"Yeah, an' I'll be able to keep an eye on you!" Rick teased. After solving a huge case of a missing child a year ago, Rick got an offer from Atlanta PD. He was now a detective, and he loved every minute of it.

"Of course. I can't ever seem to get away." Beth giggled. Rick was like an older brother to her, he'd been around often because of his late wife, who was a niece to Hershel and Annette, She lived with the Greenes until she married Rick, and her death had shattered them all.

"Well, just remember, Dr. Jenner is okay, Dr. Peletier is a genius, but Dr. Porter is a creeper. He's gonna hit on you, a lot. Just, be prepared." Rick said.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." Beth replied, nodding. Truthfully, she wasn't sure what to expect.

"Not to mention, some of the police officers you work with are kinda...Frustrating sometimes." Rick added.

"Oh? How?" Beth asked.

"Well, we got one...Her name is Michonne Benjamin. She's Special Victims...But geez, that woman has a thousand yard stare if I ever saw one. She can find anyone, and if she can't...She'll scare you into confessing. Then, there's one, who isn't technically Atlanta PD, but he's still crazy. His name is Morgan Jones, and he's a US Marshal. He's balls to the wall, all the time. There's a few rookies that are over-enthusiastic, like Tara Chambler. She's new, but completely harmless. 'Course, we got tons of rookies, Glenn was one once." Rick joked. Glenn, Maggie's husband, was a patrol cop, and though he was often goofy, once you made him angry, it was over.

"And, then there's the homicide cop everyone hates to work with." Rick joked. Glenn laughed, apparently knowing who it was.

"And who would that be?" Beth asked.

"Daryl Dixon. He's been a detective 'bout four years now. The pathologists hate him, the rookies hate him, hell, I reckon the district attorneys do, too. He's not the easiest man to get along with. But, his record for solving murders is the best one in the entire department. FBI's wanted 'im for two years an' he keeps sayin' no." Rick said. Beth chewed on the last ravioli on the plate, contemplating Rick's words.

"Nervous yet?" Glenn joked. Beth forced a smile. In truth, she was terrified. She had no idea what to expect, and she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

However, she'd figure it all out on Monday, when she began her residency with the Medical Examiner's office.

* * *

><p>Monday morning arrived quicker than Beth thought it would. She was up before the sun; getting her things ready, making a pot of extra strong coffee, and hoping that her first day would be uneventful. She was so nervous that she was trembling, nearly dropping her cup of coffee as she read the newspaper.<p>

_Why am I nervous? That's right. I'm awkward. _Beth thought. In truth, she'd spent more time in her books than she ever did with friends, that's why she didn't have very many. She needed to be there before 8:00, which meant that she needed to leave by 6:30. Her small apartment in Atlanta didn't mean that she was immune to traffic. She went over various scenarios for the day in her head, nervously contemplating each one until she almost made herself sick. When she arrived, she was met by a middle-aged woman with short, gray hair, who was wearing black scrubs with a turquoise trim.

"Hi! You must be our new resident, Dr. Elizabeth Greene." The woman greeted. Beth nodded, smiling weakly.

"My name is Dr. Carol Peletier. I'm one of the examiner's here. There are a few residents joining us, but we had a mix up and they won't be here until later in the afternoon. Come on in, we'll get you set up and you can meet everyone." Dr. Peletier offered. Beth followed her into the morgue, where she would be spending most of her time. The first person she met was a man with blonde hair, who was rather tall, and had a friendly smile.

"This gentleman here is Dr. Edwin Jenner, PhD. He's a pathologist, but he's also got a PhD in epidemiology. He used to work for the CDC, but he prefers the cold ones to the warm ones. Sorry, morgue humor." Carol joked. Beth giggled, still incredibly nervous.

"You must be the new resident. We heard a lot about you." Dr. Jenner greeted.

"Good things, I hope." Beth said.

"Well, you're certainly the youngest one we've seen here, 'sides Eugene." Dr. Jenner said.

Beth nodded, and Carol took her over to a heavier set man with a dark haired mullet, who was clearly entranced in his notes.

"This weirdo here is Dr. Eugene Porter. He's from Texas originally, but he moved to Atlanta a year ago." Carol explained.

"The crime cases in Houston weren't near as interesting as they are in the New York of the South. Besides, I knew with my intelligence that I could easily make my way to the top here. You must be the new intern. Call me Eugene, especially because you're hot." Dr. Porter said. Beth was taken aback until Dr. Peletier pulled her to the side.

"He's a little weird, but you'll get used to it." Dr. Peletier said. Then, Beth was introduced to the lab assistants. There was Bob Stookey, who did most of what they called the "dirty work", Abraham Ford, who was close friends with Eugene, Amy Harrison, a bright, young girl who's sister was a lawyer, and Karen, a very nice dark haired woman. The department seemed small, but Beth was the one of only five medical school graduates who were actually concentrating on forensic pathology. It seemed most liked their patients alive.

The first case that Beth was studying was, indeed, everything she'd feared. She'd seen cadavers, yes, but she'd never been up close to an actual dead person before they were embalmed. It also didn't help that Eugene was overseeing the autopsy.

"Oh boy, looks like this one's been dead a while." Eugene said. Beth nearly gagged; the sight was repulsive.

"So tell me, Dr. Greene, what seems to be an obvious problem with this unfortunate man, here?" Dr. Porter asked.

"He's...Been dead a while." Beth said, noting the badly bloated and discolored body. She had to swallow the bile rising in her throat as Dr. Porter cut the man's chest open.

"Oh boy! That is not a pleasant smell." Dr. Porter exclaimed, opening the man up. It appeared as if the man had been dead for several days.

"He's been dead by my guess, four days, judging by the decomposition of the organs." Beth said.

"That's exactly right, Dr. Greene. Tell me, what else do you notice?" Dr. Porter said, taking out the man's organs.

"His heart is enlarged, and his kidneys looked diseased...But his liver is three times the size of normal, and it looks like there's a buildup of bilirubin, which would explain the jaundiced appearance of said man. My guess would be cirrhosis." Beth explained.

"Dr. Greene, I have to say, in all my time as a medical examiner, I'm actually impressed. This man was a known alcoholic, to top it off he had hepatitis. His liver definitely killed him. Good work." Dr. Porter said, clearly pleased. The next autopsy, however, wasn't as easy to look at.

"So, our victim here is a 23-year-old female, compass tattoo on her leg. It appears that she was attacked, but we don't know the cause of death." Dr. Peletier explained. Beth almost couldn't look at the girl, who was nearly her age. When they cut open her chest, Beth nearly vomited.

"Beth, you know you're going to have to deal with this." Carol said.

"I know...But she's my age." Beth said. The young woman had obviously met a very violent end; and it was hard to imagine her last moments.

"Well, Beth, what do you see?" Carol said. Beth noticed the girl's ribs were broken, and so was her hip. She noticed several contusions on the skin; including the poor girl's face.

"Obviously, someone beat her." Beth said. When they examined her skull, Beth almost lost it.

"Blunt force trauma. Someone beat her head in, or—beat her over the head." Beth said, dry heaving.

"Very good, Dr. Greene. Now we just need to get you a stronger stomach." Carol said, "It doesn't get easier, but you are able to deal with it."

"I just...Don't understand how someone would want to intentionally hurt a person." Beth told her. Carol nodded.

"Unfortunately, you see it all the time. It's rough, but you do." Carol replied.

Just as they were wrapping up things at the end of the day, the phone rang. Dr. Peletier took the call, and she looked frustrated.

"Seriously? Who's at the scene now?" She asked. Beth furrowed her brows. _Do we have to see another body today? _She asked herself.

"Alright. I'm gonna gather a couple of my residents and take them with me. We'll be there in thirty." Carol said, hanging up the phone.

"Jenner! Detective Grimes just called, seems we have a drowning out by Lake Lanier. I'm taking Greene and Espinosa with me. Wanna come?" Carol asked. Jenner nodded, and followed them out to the Medical Examiner van.

"This is the fun part: pickin' up the dead ones." Jenner joked. Beth didn't find it particularly funny; though she knew she'd have to find a sense of humor eventually.

"Did you call Mamet?" Jenner asked Carol. Beth and one of the residents, Dr. Rosita Espinosa, looked at each other.

"It's his last day of vacation, I figured we'd save the deado until he got back." Carol replied.

"Who is Mamet?" Beth asked timidly.

"Oh, Dr. Milton Mamet. He's another pathologist, works mostly with serology and toxicology. Brilliant, but shy." Carol explained.

"Anyway, prepare yourselves, ladies. Drownings are not pleasant." Jenner told them. The girls nodded, getting out of the van upon arrival. Carol and Jenner arrived first, walking up to Rick and a surly looking man who was not dressed like a typical detective.

"I'm tellin' y'all, that man didn't just "drown", he was killed. His body was dumped." The surly man said.

"We're not ruling it out yet, Dixon. We just...Deal with deaths like this." Rick said.

"When are we pulling the dead guy out?" Jenner asked, "Or are we just gonna water log him?"

"Can you be a little more sensitive? It's a young guy, it was probably an accident." Carol snapped.

"Y'all ain't listenin' to a word I'm sayin'. Someone killed him, and dumped 'im up in that lake." The detective argued.

Once the victim's body was extracted, Beth could see the detective was right. He had an obvious stab wound to the back.

"I think your theory's right, Pookie." Carol said to the man. He grunted.

"Who's the newbies you got taggin' along? They your lackeys or somethin'?" The man asked.

"These are two of our pathology residents. This is Dr. Rosita Espinosa, who comes from Corpus Christi, and Dr. Beth Greene, from here in Atlanta." Carol said.

"Ladies, this is detective Daryl Dixon, Atlanta PD." Carol introduced.

"What happened? Y'all run outta med students so ya just go pickin' up college freshmen?" Daryl asked. Rosita rolled her eyes, obviously having none of his business. She'd followed her (much older) boyfriend, Abraham Ford, out to Atlanta, as Beth had learned earlier, and she didn't much care for other men.

"You look awful familiar." Daryl said, pointing to Beth.

"Oh, Rick Grimes is my cousin. And Glenn Rhee, a patrol cop, is my brother-in-law." Beth explained.

"I knew it! Rick's got a picture of the family on 'is desk. Thought you was like twelve or somethin'." Daryl replied. Beth bit her lip.

"Twenty three, actually." Beth whispered.

"Holy shit, you're a baby." Daryl exclaimed.

"Alright, enough Daryl. Quit teasing my residents." Carol said sternly, as she and Jenner rolled the body up to the van, loading it inside. Once they were finally on their way back to the morgue, Beth asked the question that had been plaguing her.

"Pookie?!"

Carol laughed, nodding. "Yep, he and I go way back. He used to be my neighbor, before the divorce. Still babysits my daughters sometimes, too. But, I'm also dating his brother, so I see him a lot."

"His brother? Daryl has a brother?" Beth asked.

"Yep, Merle. We've been seeing each other about a year now. He's a contractor; he builds houses." Carol explained, "He's great with my girls."

"You've got children?" Rosita asked, looking at Beth.

"Yep. 3 girls. Sophia is twelve, Lizzie is eleven, and Mika is nine." Carol replied.

"That's really close together." Beth said.

"I planned it that way. Wanted them growing up close." Carol explained.

"Oh." Beth said. The drive was quiet the rest of the way to the morgue, and Beth was quiet as she drove home. She had no idea how to process the day's events. She'd never seen death that close before, and truthfully, it frightened her. However, she did like dealing with dead people, because she couldn't kill them accidentally. She didn't have to have a bed side manner, because they wouldn't care anyway. In truth, the pros outweighed the cons. She got to work with Rick often, and she really enjoyed Carol and Jenner's company. Eugene was really creepy, but she could deal with him. The lab assistants were nice (except for Abraham, but that was because he was just abrasive) and Beth was sure she'd make friends.

Overall, things were looking up. The residency was supposed to last a year, and Beth figured that she could swing that. A year was nothing, right? It was sure to fly by.

At least, that's what Beth kept telling herself the next morning.

"Alright, our victim is Peter Garrison. He's 25, Army sergeant, no history of drug use, alcoholism, or crime. Dr. Mamet is going to run a toxicology report on him." Carol explained. The other residents stood around, and watched as Carol cut him open, Beth still not feeling well.

"That wound in his back, near his spinal column. That missed his kidney, but it looks fairly superficial." A resident named Alex, said.

"It was to immobilize him." Beth said, not thinking, "Look at the faint bruising around his neck. His airway is crushed. He died from asphyxiation. He was smothered."

Carol looked up from looking at the man's insides.

"What'd you say, Dr. Greene?" Carol asked. Beth took a nervous swallow.

"Um, I said, he was smothered or strangled by something. Look at his neck." Beth said, pointing to the bruises. They were faint, but there.

"You're right, Dr. Greene. I didn't notice them, they were so faint. So we know he was strangled, but, now, we need to get DNA. What's the next step?" Carol asked.

"DNA. Check his hands, fingernails, hair, anything. If there was a struggle—and it looks like there was—then he should have his killers DNA on him." Rosita said.

"Yes. We also know he was chained at the bottom of the lake, so obviously, whoever killed him didn't want anyone to find him." Beth added.

"You're right as rain, ladies. Emory sent us the brightest, didn't they?" Carol joked.

"Thanks, Dr. P." Beth said, blushing. Before they could finish the autopsy, Beth could hear commotion on the floor above. Puzzled, Carol looked up to see the office assistant, Hannah, scrambling to make it to the morgue.

"Um, Dr. P, Dr. Jenner, Dixon and Grimes are here, about the dead one you got from the lake yesterday." Hannah said nervously.

"Alright, send 'em down." Carol sighed. Beth bit her lip as Rick and detective Dixon tromped down the stairs, Dixon eager for answers.

"Any news on our dead guy?" Rick asked.

"Well, the knife wound wasn't what killed him. Dr. Greene, why don't you explain this one." Carol said, motioning for Beth to step forward. Beth looked at her confused, not sure what she should say.

"Come on with it, ain't got all day." Daryl angrily huffed. Beth swallowed, and began.

"Um, well, the knife wound wasn't to kill him, it was to keep 'im from runnin' away, it severed two of his lower vertebrae, and that caused the nerves around his spinal column to sever. He was paralyzed from the waist down. Whoever stabbed him wasn't little, they stabbed him with enough force to do that. Then, they strangled him." Beth explained.

"So that means they wanted 'im dead." Daryl said.

"Guess so." Carol said.

"Any DNA results, you send 'em to us. We need anything we can get." Rick said.

"Mamet is working on that." Dr. Jenner said, greeting the police officers.

"Aw, Mamet, really?" Daryl asked.

"Yes, Daryl. He's running all the DNA evidence and toxicology reports." Carol replied.

"Alright. But he better not lose anythin' this time. He's already on thin ice." Daryl said.

Beth was lost in her thoughts, looking at the dead guy on the table. _He was cute. _Beth thought, _ all the cute ones get killed. _

Wait. Was she really sad because she couldn't date a dead guy? Beth internally berated herself, until someone's voice startled her.

"We're gonna need to know everything about this man health wise. You up for that?" Jenner asked. Beth nodded, trying to suppress a gag at the fact that she would be primarily examining the body.

"Anything looks out of the ordinary, let us know. Keep us posted, doc." Daryl said to Carol. She nodded, and the two officers left. The autopsy continued until Beth left, around 7:30 PM. On her way home, she decided to text Rick and see if he'd like to get some takeout with her, Maggie, and Glenn. He replied that yes, he would. The kids were staying with his girlfriend until later, and he would love to join her. He said he would be bringing his partner, and that they'd be at her apartment shortly.

* * *

><p>When everyone arrived, Beth had a full house. They all sat around the table, eating Thai takeout, swapping stories from their day. Currently, everyone was engrossed in a story that Glenn was telling about a domestic disturbance.<p>

"So, no joke, this guy is like six-foot-two, 210 pounds, and he is terrified of his tiny little girlfriend. She was maybe—maybe—five-foot-one, but she was standing there, kitchen knife in hand, trying to stab him!" Glenn exclaimed.

"What'd you do 'bout it?" Rick asked, taking a mouth full of food in.

"Well, I cuffed 'em both, and THEN, I took her to jail. He was already packing his stuff. I couldn't believe how crazy this chick was. Thanks, Mags, for not being insane." Glenn said.

"No problem. We had a case today, a man shot his wife for trying to shave his beard." Maggie said, drinking a beer. Beth giggled.

"What about you, Beth? What about your day?" Rick asked.

"Y'know, cold bodies. Nothing too terrible." Beth said.

"You like openin' up the dead people?" Daryl asked. Beth looked up.

"Not really, but they don't scare me near as bad as the live ones." Beth replied.

"That's you, Bethy, avoidin' people." Maggie teased, "But, it's 'bout time for us to hit the dusty trail. We'll catch ya later."

"Alright, see ya Mags." Beth said, hugging her sister and brother-in-law goodbye. Once they left, it was only Beth, Daryl, and Rick.

"Well, I promised my girlfriend and her roommate I'd be back by 9. Best get goin' too." Rick said.

"Yep. We want those DNA results too, doc." Daryl reminded her.

"We don't talk about work after work!" Beth teased.

"Whatever. Just wanna find out who killed the guy." Daryl reminded. The men left, and Beth was again alone in her apartment. _Maybe I should get a cat. _Beth thought, getting ready for bed.

Beth laid in bed, quietly listening to the sounds of the city. She didn't like being alone, but that wasn't something she could easily change. Tomorrow, it was back to the morgue, back to the "deados", and back to solving crime.

And, unfortunately, she would still be alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, guys! Sorry this chapter is a little short. I'm in the middle of doing some homework and Alabama football was on, and we won big time...So, read, review, enjoy. Much love!**

**-A**

* * *

><p>Two:<p>

"Mother of God! What in the hell is _that!" _Beth screamed, jumping back from the exam table.

"Well, Dr., I was hoping you could tell me." Dr. Jenner said, stifling a chuckle. Beth was not prepared for the things that she was looking at; she certainly wasn't prepared for something that horrific.

"Sorry, Dr. Jenner, I really am. I'm just...Not..." Beth mumbled.

"Not used to seeing people die of venereal disease? It's actually pretty common. Seems this guy had a not-so-fun run in with chlamydia." Jenner said, relieving Beth of the diagnosis.

"But, you can treat chlamydia, Dr. Jenner. He died from the complications." Beth said.

Dr. Jenner smiled widely. "You're right. He let it go, thinking it'd go away. Jokes on him."

"This is gross." Rosita said, choking back gags as she tried to take notes.

"Yeah, well, what was that movie a few years back? The coach was teaching sex ed and said: "don't have sex; you'll get pregnant and die?"" Jenner teased.

"Mean Girls. Did you seriously watch it?" Rosita asked. Beth noted that the body was like a train wreck; you couldn't look away.

"My daughter, Olivia, it's like one of her favorites." Jenner told them.

"Jenner can't you stick him back in his hidey hole?" Beth asked. Jenner grinned, making a face at Beth.

"I suppose I could...Guess I gotta tell the man's family he died from a social disease." Jenner mused.

"Dude, that's from the 50's." Rosita quipped. Beth couldn't help but stifle a laugh.

"Yeah, well this dude was alive in the 50's, Dr. Espinosa, and quite frankly, dying from chlamydia at 65 is kind of gross. Honestly, it gives him a pervy vibe." Jenner said seriously.

"Jenner! The man is dead! Have some respect!" Beth exclaimed.

"He's dead." Jenner snapped.

"It still matters." Beth argued. Giving into Beth's request, he stuck the body back in it's "hidey hole" as Beth called it. She had already seen a suicide, an accident, and now this, all before lunch. She was hoping she could at least keep her food down after everything she'd seen.

"Dr. P, I'm going on my lunch break now." Beth said, grabbing her mini cooler.

"Okay. Have fun." Carol said, taking her own lunch break. Beth walked upstairs and out the door, walking two blocks over to a small little park. She sat down on the bench and began to eat her hummus and pita chips, contemplating her career choice. Why had she chosen to work with dead people? _Oh yeah. _She thought, _because I can't kill them. _Truly, this was unlike anything Beth had experienced. True, she could pick a different residency at any time, she was still apprehensive as she played around with different specialties.

_Obstetrics. _Beth thought. _But then, you'd have to deal with all those bad mothers, and less of the good ones. Plus, what if a birth went wrong? They'd blame you forever. _

So, that one was out.

_Cardiology. _Beth mused. _But then you get the 400 lb heart patient who refuses to lose weight and has had five heart attacks. _

Nope, that one wouldn't do, either.

_Oncology. _Beth recalled. _But then you have to see tons of helpless people die. _

She didn't want to deal with constant death. Funny, the medical examiner resident was saying that.

_Pediatrics...But kids scare the bejeezus out of me. _

_Surgery? That's a five year residency! _

_Stop being a snowflake. Come on...Family practice? Yes, family practice would be excellent. _

But dammit, she couldn't beat the set up she had. The hours were way more consistent, the people were good. Shoot, after this, all she'd have to do is start working there.

There was no avoiding the deados.

Beth finally opened her chicken salad sandwich. She couldn't help but notice that working in a morgue had it's perks; like, sometimes it was an appetite suppressant.

But, as much as Beth hated dead bodies, she loved working in the morgue. She only had to talk to a handful of people; and even then, she didn't really have to talk to them. Beth, ever the introvert, was dancing on the inside. Living people made her more uncomfortable than the dead ones. If the dead ones had a creepy look on their face, all you had to do was shove 'em back in their respective drawer.

Ah, Beth, ever the optimist. Once she finished her lunch early, she decided to take a quick walk. She loved being outside in the spring, before it got much too hot. Though it was May, it wasn't as humid as it would be during the summer. Beth relished the sunshine and breeze, grateful that scrubs were cool. She closed her eyes, breathing in the crisp, smog filled air, and heard a familiar, gruff voice greet her.

"Yo doc, got my evidence yet?"

Well damn, that didn't last long.

Beth opened her eyes to see Detective Dixon staring right at her, chomping on a burger from the local grease trap.

"Why don't you call Dr. Mamet and ask him?" Beth replied sarcastically.

Dixon grumbled. "He don't like me much. The little fruit won't talk when I call."

"Wonder why." Beth huffed, trying to walk past.

"I need to know what happened." Daryl told her.

"Just ask him! I've known him like, two days. Aren't cops supposed to be in an office or something?" Beth asked.

"Ain't medical examiners supposed to be in the basement?" Daryl replied, irritation in his voice.

"Call Dr. Peletier. She seems to be the only one you like anyway." Beth said.

"She's the only one that knows what the hell she's talkin' 'bout." Daryl snipped.

"Ugh. Listen, I don't have time for this. Just call the office, it usually takes a few days to process." Beth explained.

"I gotta find out soon. Got a lead, need evidence 'fore I can get a warrant." Daryl replied.

"Huh?" Beth asked.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Yeah, got a great big ol' lead. Can't tell ya yet, but if I'm right, you'll be mighty surprised."

"I'm sure. I've gotta go. Just call up there. I'm sure Mamet won't even wanna talk." Beth said, walking back to the morgue. When she got back in, sure enough, Carol was on the phone with Daryl, telling him that no, they didn't have all the evidence they needed yet. It'd probably be another day. He wasn't happy, but Beth assumed that since it was Carol, he dealt with it.

"So, any new ones?" Beth asked.

"Nope. Just that last one. Male. 33. Hispanic. His name is Caesar Martinez." Carol said. Beth put on her gown, mask, and hair net, walking over to join Carol as she examined the body.

"Looks to be in decent health." Beth said as they cut him open.

"Actually, he's like the picture of health for men his age. Athletic build, his organs look healthy. He was dumped in water, too." Carol explained.

"Seems like a pattern..." Rosita surmised, handling the man's liver. "His liver is healthy."

"As are his kidneys." The resident, Dr. Alex Turner said.

"I can't see any reason why this healthy man would die. What are his toxicology results?" Beth asked.

"Dr. Mamet is processing them. He did get the other drowning victim's bloodwork, I gave that to Daryl. No alcohol or drugs in his system at all. I'm suspecting it's the same with this guy." Carol explained.

"He's healthy. Let's cut the head open, see what we've got." Beth said. Once they began examining his brain, it was evident that he'd been attacked; the evidence was staring them in the face.

"He's got a cerebral hematoma. He was hit in the head." Rosita said.

"Yeah. And he was strangled too, just like our other guy." Beth pointed out.

"This isn't sitting well with me." Alex said. Carol looked up.

"Why not?" She asked.

"Because...This is a pattern." Alex replied, "Two guys killed in almost the exact same way?"

"Yeah...That isn't...Good." Carol said, mulling the words over in her head.

"So, does this mean something?" Beth asked. She was starting to think...Maybe the murders were connected.

"I need to go call Dixon...Porter, Dr. Mamet, take over for me?" Carol asked. Dr. Porter and Dr. Mamet came over, and Dr. Mamet began to collect evidence.

"Let's hope Dixon isn't calling us anytime soon." Mamet muttered, taking a cotton swab to the victim's skin.

"What's your beef with him?" Beth asked, as Mamet darted his eyes.

"He and I aren't exactly the best of friends... I believe he refers to me as a 'goofy little fruit'." Mamet explained.

"Well, he's a raging, arrogant asshole." Beth replied.

Mamet chuckled, swabbing the victim's nose, ears, and fingernails.

"You're right. But he is, after all, one of the best, I suppose." Mamet whispered, concentrated in his work.

"What made you want to become a pathologist, Dr. Mamet?" Beth asked.

"I dislike contact with most people." Mamet replied, "I seem to do better with the dead ones."

"That's why I'm a pathologist too. I figured I couldn't kill them, so...Ya know." Beth shrugged, giggling slightly.

"I like you, Dr. Greene. You're pleasant." Mamet replied.

"I like you too, Dr. Mamet." Beth said, smiling. Dr. Mamet returned the smile with one of his own, and then left when all the evidence he needed. Beth continued to look at the body of the man, Caesar, and then gasped when she saw something highly, highly unusual.

"Uh, Dr. Porter, can you come here for a second?" Beth asked. Dr. Porter stepped forward, raising his eyebrows.

"What is it, Dr. Greene?" Eugene asked.

"I don't think it's normal for people to have their necks broken. This is a new development." Beth told him.

"Dr. Greene, I think you're right. Something is goin' on here, and it isn't good. I'll go inform Dr. Peletier, who is, by my calculations, still on the phone with our resident grumpy detective." Eugene said. He left, informing Carol of the new development, and returned to help Beth sew the body back into the "hidey hole."

When Carol returned, she motioned for Beth to come over to her. Beth took off her gown, mask, and gloves, and washed her hands.

"What's up, Dr. P?" Beth asked.

"You're gonna have to go meet with Dixon." Carol said.

"Really?" Beth groaned, not wanting to talk to the surly man.

"I'm tied up with another body this afternoon. Listen, you go meet with Dixon, give him all the evidence you've got. Mamet got the toxicology and DNA results from our first guy, you need to take that to him. He's trying to get overwhelming evidence. Once you meet with him, you're free to go for the day. But you spent more time with those bodies than any of us, you've got all the notes." Carol explained.

"Alright, I'll go meet with 'Pookie', even though you're the only one he really likes." Beth replied.

"You're my favorite, Dr. Greene." Carol teased.

"Yeah, yeah." Beth said, waving her hand, "You love me."

"I do. You're a good doctor." Carol said seriously.

"Thanks, Dr. P. You are, too." Beth replied. Carol smiled, as she gave Beth the evidence packet. Beth walked out, driving down to the police station, and heading to the third floor—where Dixon's office was. The secretary, an older woman, smiled widely.

"Hi, ma'am. Can I help you?" The woman asked.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Greene with the medical examiner's office. I was supposed to meet with Detective Dixon." Beth replied. The woman pursed her lips, giving Beth a sympathetic glance, before speaking.

"His office is to the left, down the hall. Best of luck to ya, sweetie." The woman told her.

"Is he that bad?" Beth asked.

"Yes. Yes he is." The woman replied, not missing a beat. Beth took the secretary's directions, walking over to the office with the last name "Dixon". Beth knocked softly.

"Who is it?" Came the gruff reply.

"Um, it's Dr. Greene." Beth said. He opened the door, motioning for her to come inside.

"Sit down." Daryl ordered. She sat in the chair in front of his desk. His office was bare, and he looked like he didn't spend a lot of time there.

"Whatcha got for me?" Daryl asked.

"Evidence." Beth replied. Daryl took the folder, looking at the first victim's file.

"So, our first victim, Peter Garrison, had no alcohol or drugs in his system. His lower two vertebrae were severed by a knife wound to the back. He was strangled, clearly, his windpipe was crushed. He had DNA under his fingernails and he had defensive wounds." Beth explained.

"Hmm...An', he was taken out to the lake and dumped. From our end, we know he was killed pretty roughly. Whoever did it wanted 'im dead. We asked 'round, he didn't have any enemies. Everyone liked him. His computer doesn't show up with anythin' suspicious. But his text messages said he was meetin' with someone." Daryl explained, "A man. We just gotta find out the man's physical description."

"Yeah. Whoever it was, they were strong enough to sever his spine. It was a fight." Beth said, "I don't know why somebody'd wanna kill 'im, but I do know they were angry 'bout it."

"Yeah, that much was obvious." Daryl said. He took a look at the second file, perusing it before looking back up at Beth. She was tugging at her scrubs, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"This guy, Martinez. No drugs or alcohol?" Daryl asked.

"We find out tomorrow. But, this one is interesting, because he was strangled too. He didn't have a knife wound, BUT, he did have a cerebral hematoma. He was beaten over the head, knocked out so he couldn't get away." Beth explained. Daryl looked up, raising his eyebrows.

"Really? So, both were strangled and immobilized?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah. They died pretty much the same ways. Mr. Martinez wasn't found in the lake, though." Beth said.

"No, he was buried in a giant hole, shallow grave." Daryl replied, "Same general area as Garrison, though."

"You think they could be connected?" Beth asked.

"Can't say. But, this helps. Lemme know what the results are tomorrow. You call me—I don't wanna talk to Mamet if I can avoid it." Daryl said.

"Will do, detective." Beth said, getting up.

"Thanks for the help, doc." Daryl told her.

"No problem, Dixon." Beth replied, leaving.

Since Beth could go home early, she took the liberty of lounging around her apartment, trying to avoid anything that had to do with pathology or death. She decided to read a Stephen King novel, when she heard a knock on her door. She opened it, and saw a smaller framed brunette woman, and a tall man with an eyepatch. Perplexed, Beth opened the door wider.

"Can I help you?" Beth asked.

"Um, hi. I'm Lilly Heriot, this is my husband, Brian. He got a nasty cut on his arm. I'm a nurse, and I know you're a doctor. Would you happen to have any ointment or cream, or antiseptic?" Lilly asked.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Come on in. I'm Beth Greene." Beth introduced herself.

"We're new, just moved in about a month ago. We're here with my daughter, Meghan. It's nice to meet you." Lilly said, smiling. Beth walked to her bathroom and found the iodine and bandages. She returned and saw Lilly and the man, Lilly fussing over his gash.

"You let it get infected, honey." Lilly fussed, cleaning the cut.

"I thought it'd be fine." Brian said.

"How'd you get it? Looks nasty." Beth said.

"I was out at the lake a few days ago, fishin'. Slipped with my fillet knife." Brian explained. She noticed he was a large man, with bruises all over his arms.

"You're lucky you didn't sever an artery." Lilly nagged, bandaging the wound.

"Well, darlin', I'm okay." Brian said.

"So, where are y'all from?" Beth asked.

"I'm from Conyers, originally, me and my sister. Brian's from Savannah." Lilly said.

"Oh, okay. I'm from Alpharetta, or, the outskirts." Beth said.

"Yeah, I work at Emory University Hospital. I'm an oncology nurse. Brian is actually a celebrity." Lilly teased.

"Really?" Beth asked.

"I'm actually a lawyer, now a senator. Been in politics a while. I'm about to announce my run for governor next year." Brian explained.

"Oh wow. You are a celebrity." Beth said.

"Hardly. Just a man tryin' to do right by the people I care about." Brian said, kissing his wife. She smiled softly, before they both stood up.

"Thank you for letting us use those supplies. You're a sweet lady, Beth." Lilly said.

"No problem." Beth replied.

"What kind of doctor are you, Beth? Emergency room? Pediatrics?" Lilly asked.

"Forensic pathology, actually. I work with dead people." Beth said.

"Oh, wow. That's tough. I don't think I could." Lilly said.

"It isn't for everyone, but I enjoy it." Beth replied.

"Well, we best be getting goin'. Thank you, Dr. Greene. It was a pleasure." Brian said, seeing his wife out. When they left, Beth called Rick, waiting for him to answer.

"Hello, Rick Grimes." Rick greeted.

"Rick, it's Beth. Listen, what to you know about Senator Brian Heriot?" Beth asked.

"Why?!" Rick asked frantically.

"He and his wife just came by here. He said he's runnin' for governor or somethin'." Beth replied.

"He's a crook, I know that much. Between you an' me, his bread ain't quite done. He's a little...Scary. Got a temper." Rick replied.

"Oh. Well, that's all I needed to know." Beth replied.

"Plus, I'm keepin' an eye on 'im. Seems he knew Martinez and Garrison." Rick said.

"Really?" Beth asked.

"Yeah. Peter was a friend, Martinez was his campaign manager. He hasn't been notified of Martinez's death yet, since we just found 'im last night." Rick explained.

"Oh. Okay." Beth whispered.

"Don't...Don't be alone with that guy, Beth. And watch 'im like a hawk. Okay?" Rick asked.

"Okay." Beth promised.

"Well, I gotta go. Carl's ball game is about to start, and me and my girlfriend are still in the car." Rick said.

"When can I meet this girl?" Beth asked.

"In time. See ya, Beth." Rick said.

"See ya, Rick." Beth replied, hanging up the phone. Beth sat back on the couch, mulling over Rick's words. Surely, Brian couldn't commit murder. He was too nice. He was a politician with a wife and kid! No one that public could kill someone in cold blood, could they?

Beth wasn't sure, but she did know that she'd be keeping an eye on Brian Heriot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the awesome reviews! I am blown away by the response I've gotten. You guys are great! Read and review, I appreciate all of it, you guys! **

**Much love!**

**-A**

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><p>Three:<p>

"My Beffy, I's thirsty." Said two-and-a-half year old Judith Grimes, indicating that her sippy cup was empty.

"What would you like to drink, baby doll? Juice or milk?" Beth asked, taking the cup from the toddler and walking to the small kitchen.

"Juice!" Exclaimed Judith, clapping her hands together. Tonight, Beth was watching Carl and Judith so Rick and his girlfriend could go on a date. Carl, who had been Beth's buddy since he was born, was playing video games in the living room, while Beth and Judith built a fort.

"Hey, Aunt Beth! Do you think we could go on a walk?" Carl asked, entering the kitchen. Beth poured apple juice—Judith's favorite—into her sippy cup, giving it back to the toddler.

"Dank you, my Beffy." Judith said, toddling off to play with her blocks. Beth turned her attention to Carl, who was still awaiting an answer.

"I don't see why not, kiddo. We've got a few hours of daylight left. Why don't we get Juju and head over to the park?" Beth asked.

"Awesome!" Carl said, running to grab his younger sister, "Come on, Judy! We're gonna go play at the park!"

"The park! The park!" Judith echoed, running to find her shoes.

Beth enjoyed nights like this, where she didn't have to focus on work. She enjoyed playing with Carl and Judith. When Lori was alive, she insisted that Carl call Beth, Maggie, and Shawn "aunt" and "uncle", having lived with them since Hershel and Annette were married. It pained Beth's heart to know that Carl and Judith wouldn't be able to have their mom around. Lori, a nurse, was coming home from working a late shift; leaving at three in the morning. She was heavily pregnant with Judith, refusing to take maternity leave until absolutely necessary. She stopped for gas on the way home and was attacked by an escaped convict, a man named Andrew, for all the money she had in her wallet, and her car. Judith survived an emergency c-section, but Lori never woke up from her coma. Four days later, she was pronounced brain dead, and taken off life support. Rick took it the hardest, believing his wife would get better. Beth, too, had been utterly devastated at the lost of her cousin, who might as well have been her older sister. Every chance Beth got to spend time with Carl and Judith, she did, telling them stories of how many times their mother got her out of trouble, and saved her from Maggie's temper.

The three arrived at the park, playing first with the ducks. Judith was fascinated, mimicking their "quack" sound as much as she could. Beth had brought bread for them to feed the ducks with, and even Carl was enjoying the time.

"I used to be scared of geese." Carl admitted, "One bit me once. I don't trust 'em."

"I don't either." Beth replied, trying to be serious, "Geese have an agenda."

"Exactly! Dad said I was just bein' a weenie, but he's never been bit by one of those things! It stole my sandwich, too!" Carl exclaimed. Beth laughed. Suddenly, she looked around, realizing that Judith was nowhere to be seen.

"Judy?" Beth called. She looked at Carl, and both began to panic.

"Judith?!" Beth asked again, looking for her.

"Judith Abigail Grimes, where are you?!" Beth exclaimed, visibly starting to shake with fear. What if someone had taken her? What if she'd fallen into the pond somewhere?

"Hey, Beth! You lookin' for someone?" Came a familiar voice. Beth turned around to see Alex, another pathology resident, holding Judith, smiling widely.

"Alex! Oh my gosh! Where'd you find 'er?" Beth asked.

"Oh, uh, she just kinda wandered up to us. She wanted us to feed the ducks with her." Alex explained.

"Oh. Yeah, sounds like her." Beth replied, sighing heavily.

"She your daughter?" Alex asked.

"Niece. This is my nephew, her brother Carl." Beth introduced.

"Oh, hey man. I'm Alex. I work with your aunt." Alex said, shaking Carl's hand, "This is my brother, Gareth, and my girlfriend, Kayleigh, by the way. We just came out for a walk."

"Oh, hi guys. I'm Beth Greene. Or, Dr. Beth Greene, I guess. That sounds weird, doesn't it?" Beth asked. She and Alex had gone to medical school together, and she'd heard all about Alex's brother.

"Nice to meet you, Beth. I'm Gareth; the artsy of the Turner brothers." Gareth said, chuckling.

"Artsy?" Beth asked, somewhat flirting with the cute man.

"I've got a PhD in literature, I teach at Georgia State." Gareth explained.

"Oh! Okay. It's nice to meet you. Guys, thank you, for finding Judith for me. Her daddy would kill me if I lost her for good." Beth said, relieved.

"No problem, Beth. She's a cool kid! I think we could be pals." Alex said, high-fiving the toddler still in his arms. Beth reached and took her, Judith seemingly unconcerned with scaring Beth half to death.

"Well, we'd better get going, next time I'll bring a leash for her." Beth joked. She said goodbye to the brothers and Alex's girlfriend, walking back to her apartment.

"Juju, why would you scare me like that?" Beth asked.

"I sorry my Beffy. I thought you were right behind me." Judith explained, apologizing.

"It's alright, Juju. Just be careful next time. Not everyone is nice like Mr. Alex or Mr. Garrett. Some people will snatch ya right up." Beth warned.

"Okay, my Beffy." Judith said, hugging Beth. Beth set her down in the apartment, sitting on the couch next to Carl.

"Your sister scares the bejeezus outta me sometimes, Carl. I don't want anything to happen to her." Beth sighed.

"You an' me both, Aunt Beth." Carl said, concentrated on the video game before him.

A Pixar movie, a pizza delivery, and one spilled apple juice later, Rick returned for the kids. Though Beth was tired, she loved spending time with the only children who didn't terrify her.

"Were they good?" Rick asked, picking up a sleeping Judith.

"Of course. Juju did pull a Houdini and disappear at the park, though. Luckily a friend of mine knew who she was belonged to." Beth chuckled handing him Judith's bag.

"Yeah, she ran away from Michonne the other day at Carl's ball game. We found 'er over near the dog park playin' with a Saint Bernard." Rick replied.

"Wait. Who's Michonne? Isn't she the SVU detective?" Beth asked.

"Oh...Yeah...That slipped. We've been datin' for a few months now." Rick said sheepishly.

"Six,to be exact." Michonne said, walking up the hall.

"Oh, I thought you were gonna wait in the car?" Rick asked, quite surprised.

"And miss meetin' the famous 'my Beffy'? Never!" Michonne joked, flashing her trademark smile.

"Well, I'm Beth. And you must be who Juju refers to as "Shawn"." Beth laughed.

"She is a talker, I'll give 'er that." Michonne said, hugging Beth. Carl came down the hallway, yawning slightly.

"We ready to head home? Aunt Beth beat me twice at Call of Duty. I'm tired of losing to a girl." Carl teased, punching Beth's shoulder slightly.

"Yeah, yeah. We're headed home. Thanks for watchin' the kiddos, Beth. Dunno what I'd do without ya." Rick said, hugging her.

"Probably go crazier than you already are." Beth quipped.

"Probably. Night." Rick said, walking with Michonne, Carl, and Judith down the hall. Beth decided that since it was nearly midnight, she would hit the hay. The went through her usual routine, washing her face, getting into her baggy t-shirt and shorts, and heading to bed. The silence was deafening, making it hard for Beth to fall asleep.

_Yeah. I should definitely get a cat. Or dog. Or boyfriend. Or Beta fish. _Beth thought. After counting sheep unsuccessfully, Beth finally began to fall asleep, staring at the ceiling, hoping for a peaceful, restful sleep.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, she was awakened early the next morning by a banging on her door. Her head was pounding, the clock said 6:00. <em>Who is that? <em>Beth thought, irritated. She walked to the door, not even bothering with the peephole. If it was a burglar, she figured, then they wouldn't be banging on the door.

When she opened it, however, what she found was much, much worse.

"Yo, doc!" Daryl said, looking at her obviously disheveled appearance, "I need to talk to you."

"And this couldn't wait until, maybe, I dunno, noon?!" Beth asked, annoyed.

"Listen, we got a suspicious death at an apartment 'bout a mile away. Might wanna pretty up." Daryl said, gesturing to her appearance.

"I'm a resident." Beth replied sharply.

"Technically, Dr. P said you're a fellow. So come on, let's go." Daryl said.

"Dixon, seriously, the sun is just barely up." Beth hissed.

"It's been up 'bout thirty minutes. Now put on your doctor clothes, little mascara wouldn't hurt either, sunshine." Daryl said, walking in and sitting on the couch.

"What the damn hell are you doing?!" Beth growled.

"Waitin' on you to get ready. Tried callin', didn't answer your phone. Rick's meetin' us, come on." Daryl said.

"I could slap you right now." Beth said, walking over to her coffee pot.

"But that'd be assaultin' a police officer, an' you're too pretty for prison." Daryl said.

"Do you have any manners?" Beth asked.

"Don't have to, most of the people I talk to offed their wife or husband for insurance money." Daryl replied.

"I don't have a husband or a wife. I don't even have a cat." Beth said, slipping on her "work clothes" in her bedroom.

"Obviously. There might be more food in your cabinets if ya did." Daryl replied.

"You're going through my cabinets?!" Beth asked, coming down the hallway.

"Lookin' for somethin'. Man's gotta eat." Daryl said.

"Ugh. No wonder no one wants to work with you. You're a raging, arrogant asshole." Beth muttered.

"But amazingly self aware." Daryl quipped.

"Why me? Why not Alex or Rosita or Sasha or hell, anyone else?!" Beth asked.

"Easy. Jenner told me he wanted your help." Daryl replied, popping the last pop tart in his mouth.

"You're eating my food?" Growled Beth, hands on her hips.

"Your mat said 'welcome'." Daryl said.

"Ugh. Whatever. Let's go." Beth said, grabbing her purse. Daryl followed her out, and the two hopped in his unmarked Charger. Beth had to admit, he did seem like a Charger guy. Glenn's was a patrol car, Daryl's wasn't. She supposed those were the perks of being a detective. They arrived quickly, and Beth flashed her "Fulton County Medical Examiner" badge. They let her in without query, and she walked over to Jenner, who was taking notes.

"Hey, Dr. Greene! This one is a doozy." Jenner said, leading her back to the crime scene.

"Um, how?" Beth asked.

"Oh. Seems our couple had a spat. I think, technically, in the state of Georgia, it's still legal to kill a man with a cappuccino machine." Jenner explained.

It seemed the victim had been bludgeoned, beaten, and then scalded. It wasn't a pretty scene, and Beth guessed that it hadn't been too long since the man died; rigor mortis hadn't quite set in.

"People die like this often?" Beth asked Jenner as they loaded the man into a body bag.

"Not too often, 'death-by-cappuccino' isn't something I've ever seen." Jenner laughed. The two began to lift the body, but found it difficult. The body bag was slippery, and Beth almost dropped his feet.

"Greene, do not drop this man in front of his kids." Jenner ordered quietly.

"They're adults!" Beth hissed.

"Still. They're father's barista mistress had the last laugh, they're not too happy." Jenner replied. The two got the body into the van, and Jenner, leaving Beth at the apartment to sign last minute paperwork. Once she was done, she realized, that even though her apartment was only a mile away, she'd been driven by Daryl, and he was now with the murderess barista down at the police station. So, Beth decided that she'd wait on the front steps of the apartment, and debate seeing if Maggie wanted to get breakfast, because Daryl had eaten the last remaining pop tarts.

_I need to go buy groceries. _Beth thought.

Maggie wasn't answering the phone, so Beth decided that, eventually, she'd just walk home. In the meantime, she'd try to beat her current score on Flappybird, and contemplate getting a pet when she was out.

"Yes! 91! I did it!" Beth exclaimed, trying not to draw too much attention to herself.

"Hey! I'm sorry—Beth, right? You're friends with my brother, Alex. You had the runaway niece." Beth heard a voice say. She looked up to see Alex's brother, Gareth, smiling.

"Yeah! Yeah. Oh geez, I'm sorry, I look so weird. I assisted a death not long ago, my ride left, and my sister isn't awake yet. I only live a mile away, but someone ate all my favorite pop tarts." Beth explained, "Oh crap, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"No, no, actually, I was on my way to breakfast. Wanna join me? It's not pop tarts, but I'm sure we could manage." Gareth suggested. Wait, a guy was actually talking to her? Not run off by her awkwardness? Beth shyly tucked her long bangs behind her ear, blushing slightly.

"I'd love that, actually. I didn't plan to be up this early...A certain homicide cop decided to bang on my door before the sun was up." Beth said.

"By any chance, would his last name be Dixon?" Gareth asked. Beth raised a curious eyebrow.

"Oh my Lord, how do you know him?" Beth replied, her jaw nearly hitting the floor.

"He lives next door to me, and he freaked Alex out. A lot." Gareth explained.

"He has that effect on people. So, where we goin'?" Beth asked.

"I was headed to a little diner. Greasy food, but, the atmosphere is nice and it's pretty cheap. Plus, I'm a sucker for hashbrowns and gravy." Gareth admitted. Beth walked beside him, purse in hand.

"Yeah, me too, actually. Most people tell me that's really weird, but there's nothing better than hashbrowns, gravy, biscuits, and a nice cup of coffee." Beth said.

"Black, or cream and sugar?" Gareth asked.

"Before med school, cream and sugar. After, black, cream and sugar, in an IV, pretty much any way I could get it." Beth joked.

"Yeah, I used to pretty much drink half coffee, half milk before I got my PhD. But long nights writing a dissertation about William Faulkner will do that to ya." Gareth replied.

"Faulkner? You seemed like a Hemmingway man to me." Beth teased. Gareth laughed, flashing a handsome smile.

"Hemmingway? Everyone writes about Hemmingway. Besides, Hemmingway is depressing." Gareth said, opening the door of the diner for Beth. The two sat in a booth next to the window, ordering nearly the exact same thing: hashbrowns, gravy, biscuits, sausage, and coffee.

"So, Beth." Gareth said, sipping his coffee, "What made you want to go to medical school?"

"Well, I always wanted to help people. I worked at a nursin' home in high school, even did bingo night for 'em. My daddy lost his leg in a car wreck my junior year of high school, doctors saved his life. I guess, I wanted to do that too." Beth said.

"Why dead people, though? I mean, for Alex, it was easy. Our dad died really suddenly—the only way we got closure was through an autopsy. It was a pulmonary embolism, ten years ago. Alex wanted to help other people have closure." Gareth explained. Beth felt a sad smile tug at her lips.

"Well, my cousin, Lori, she lived with us growin' up. She was pretty much my big sister. She was an ER nurse and she was comin' home from a late shift one night. An escaped convict wanted her car, so he attacked her in a gas station parkin' lot. She was pregnant at the time, with my niece, Judith, the little runaway at the park. Lori never got to meet her. She was pronounced brain dead, died a few days later. She had the guy's DNA under her fingernails, they were able to nab him." Beth said, taking a bite of biscuit.

"I'm really sorry, Beth." Gareth said, his dark eyes meeting hers.

"It gets better, I just wish Juju had time with her mom." Beth said.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Our sister, Emily was twelve when he died. He wasn't there to teach her how to drive, or for her high school or college graduation...None of that." Gareth replied, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Well, you were. Alex was. It doesn't change things, but, it does help to have people that care." Beth declared. Gareth smiled.

"Yeah, it does. I mean, my mom is the toughest woman I know. Three kids, by herself." Gareth laughed, finishing his hashbrowns.

"What does she do?" Beth asked.

"She owns a restaurant, the Railroad Cafe in Macon, where we're from. It's an old railroad depot, she fixed it up, turned it into the best barbecue place in town. People drive all the way from Atlanta and Augusta for it." Gareth said proudly, "What about your parents?"

"Well, Dad is a veterinarian, Mom is a kindergarten teacher. Both of 'em love what they do." Beth said, "Of course, all of us do. Maggie, my sister, is a lawyer. Shawn, my brother, owns his own surveying company. Of course, you and Alex are both doctors." Beth said, smiling.

"Yeah, Em is kind of the black sheep, I guess. She's a hippie. The big scandal was that she ran off to Oregon, and she's married a hippie named Sam. Mom was, to say the least, pissed beyond all reason. Alex and I went out to see them over Christmas, though." Gareth said, chuckling.

"Oh yeah? How was it?" Beth asked.

"I like savin' the Earth just as much as the next person, but good Lord, they live in a yurt." Gareth said, waving his hands.

"A yurt?" Beth laughed.

"Honest-to-God, a yurt. They have a greenhouse, they sell produce at the Farmer's market year round. Em has a degree in physics, and she is living in a yurt, selling tomatoes and cucumbers, making hippie furniture." Gareth said, this time laughing loudly, "But, they have no debt, and they have enough to pay for Sam to finish nursing school. So, they're doin' alright, I guess."

"Yeah, if anyone was the black sheep, it was me." Beth joked.

"You?" Gareth asked.

"Yeah. Shawn and Maggie are both married, or engaged. I don't even have a pet. But I was considering getting a cat today, which still might happen." Beth said.

"I'm pretty boring, too. Everyone assumes because I'm a college professor I must have this really cool looking apartment with antique furniture. My idea of antique is buying from the Goodwill and praying it doesn't have bedbugs." Gareth quipped.

"Wow, we're a couple of squares, aren't we?" Beth asked, clutching her sides from laughter.

"Totally. A couple of wet blankets." Gareth agreed. The two enjoyed breakfast so much that they'd exchanged phone numbers, and planned to have breakfast again the following morning. Beth was elated; for the first time in a very long time, she had conversation with another human being that didn't involve work, or Maggie's sex life. It was a good feeling, to have a friend, or something more. Beth wasn't sure, but as she walked into her apartment, a feeling of giddiness overtook her, and she began squealing as she ran down the hall, sliding in her socks. The first thing she did was call Maggie, and tell her to promptly "get her butt over here", so that she could tell her.

Maggie arrived minutes later, sporting what Beth referred to as the 'Maggie Rhee weekend uniform': sweat pants, a baggy t-shirt, a half-ponytail, and her glasses.

"Bethy, what's got you so worked up?" Maggie asked, sipping on her travel cup full of Mountain Dew.

"Mags, I went on a date this morning. AFTER I carted off a dead person. And the dead person was intense too, got killed by an angry Starbucks barista." Beth laughed, eating a Reese's candy bar she'd socked away in the junk drawer.

"A date? Beth Greene has a date?" Maggie asked.

"Yes. I know, Satan must have ice skated into work today." Beth said, laughing loudly. Sure enough, Gareth had already text her, making Maggie laugh as well.

"Bethy, I would've never guessed it. Is he cute?" Maggie asked.

"Yes. Very. He's adorable, really. And, he's a literature professor. His brother works with me at the morgue." Beth explained.

"Ah. Wow. Successful family. I approve." Maggie said, taking a piece of beef jerky from her purse and eating it. Beth gave her a curious look.

"What? I like jerky." Maggie quipped.

The two sisters watched a movie before Maggie went home, and Beth was, again, by herself. However, after today, she didn't mind the quiet, and she decided to spend the rest of the evening in her baggy t-shirt and short shorts, listening to random Disney musicals while cleaning. A knock at the door jolted her from her rendition of "Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride", and she ran to the door, answering without looking at the peep hole—again.

"I swear I'm way too popular today." Beth huffed, opening the door. Much to her chagrin, it was Daryl Dixon, again, standing there, with a familiar face—Rick's friend and King County Sheriff, Shane Walsh.

"Dixon, what the hell? Can't you knock or something? Seriously?! And Shane, what are you doing here?!" Beth asked.

"Listen, I didn't wanna barge in an' Rick's down at the station, sent me over here. We gotta lead. Seems there've been a few untimely deaths over in King County, an' ol' Sheriff Walsh here is now involved on our investigation, needs copies of your notes. Carol said you had the most thorough ones." Daryl explained.

"Well, Miss Bethy, long time no see." Shane said, greeting her. Beth rolled her eyes, huffing loudly as she let them both in. She and Shane had dated a year prior, before he ran for Sheriff. Rick didn't approve, neither did her father, but Beth soon learned that Shane wasn't the "settling down" type.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on in. I scanned in the notes, I'll give you both copies." Beth said, firing up her computer and printing out copies for them both.

"So, Beth, it's been a while since I last saw ya." Shane said, looking around Beth's apartment.

"A year. That's when we broke up." Beth reminded him.

"You dated her?" Daryl asked.

"Yes sir, I did. Wonderful young lady, she was." Shane said.

"Why don't you tell ol' detective here why we broke up?" Beth asked sarcastically.

"I can't even 'member why we broke up now, darlin'." Shane teased. Beth wasn't amused, especially since this was the second time Daryl Dixon was in her apartment that day.

"Because, detective, the sheriff here is a great big ol' bag of dicks." Beth said, smiling as she handed them both folders.

"Oh, honey, you don't gotta be like that." Shane said, trying to sit next to her. Beth wasn't having it, and moved to the kitchen.

"Bag of dicks? That's a new one, doc." Daryl chuckled.

"Oh darlin', why you gotta go cuttin' me down in front of an upstandin' lawman such as Detective Dixon, here?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, well, next time, don't sleep with the nurse that takes your stitches out. Here's your copies, gentleman. Now, get out of my apartment. I know how to make accidents happen." Beth said, narrowing her eyes. She shooed them out, after Shane tried to make small talk.

"Alright, doc, we're goin'." Daryl said, opening the door. Shane walked down the hall, but Daryl turned around.

"What is it?" Beth hissed.

"For the record, I think he's a great big ol' bag of dicks, too." Daryl said, turning to walk away. Beth shut the door, smiling just a little bit. It had been a day for Beth Greene. She'd never had such a lively life before her new job, and now, she was starting to like the slower pace she had before. She'd taken it for granted, and she missed it. However, she still enjoyed being a pathologist, and she still enjoyed working with the police department. Maybe she could tell Gareth about the annoying homicide detective? Maybe she'd finally pick out a beta fish tomorrow? For Beth, the possibilities were endless. Beth finally crawled into bed, letting her body relax as her eyelids grew heavy. It had been a crazy start for the new medical examiner resident, and she hoped it was just a fluke.

But Beth Greene new there were no coincidences in life, so she let sleep overtake her, and hoped that Daryl Dixon would leave her alone for a little while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Helloooooo Bethyl readers! Who's excited for Slabtown on Sunday? THIS GIRL! The reviews are amazing, guys. Seriously, I am floored by the amount of positivity. You guys are incredible! **

**-A**

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><p>Chapter 4:<p>

It had been two months since Beth had begun her residency.

Two months. Twenty dead people. One new Caucasian Shepherd puppy. And fifteen dates with Gareth.

Things were going swimmingly, if Beth Greene did say so herself. She was enjoying everything about her present situation.

Except, of course, that she was living across the hall from a potential serial killer. It seemed that, though he was extremely charismatic, he was also, as Rick liked to say, "bat-shit insane". The problem was, though, that they were still investigating him. That's partially why Beth had just gotten the Caucasian Sheperd two days ago (paying $800, and why Maggie and Glenn had been spending an awful lot of time over at Beth's apartment. And, why Gareth was sleeping over quite a bit.

Today, it was Saturday. That meant it was Maggie/Beth day. They'd set it aside to get dog toys for Jake From State Farm, and, for Maggie to take care of some important business.

"Mags, seriously, why couldn't you do this at home, with Glenn?" Beth asked, outside the bathroom door.

"Because, Glenn would freak out. You know he would." Maggie said through the door. Beth knew it had been coming; they'd gotten married a year and a half ago, and it seemed like neither one of them could keep it in their pants.

"Come on, Mags. Just tell me! Yes, or no?" Beth asked, pacing in the hallway. She was nervous. She knew Glenn and Maggie weren't trying to have a kid of their own, but Beth wouldn't mind getting acquainted with a new potato-looking thing. That's what freaked Beth out the most about babies; they all looked like potatoes, in her opinion.

Soon, Maggie emerged from the bathroom, quiet as a mouse. Beth bit her lip, she was afraid that would mean that Maggie was, as Glenn called it, "with child." Beth wasn't sure what to do, she grew more nervous as her sister said nothing.

"Well?" Beth asked, fidgeting. Maggie didn't answer, she just stood there, making Beth's anxiety grow.

"Mags! Tell me!" Beth exclaimed. Maggie then jumped into the hallway, giving the Heisman pose and screaming loudly.

"NEGATIVE! THREE NEGATIVES! This girl is not pregnant!" Maggie screamed, dancing in the hallway. Beth breathed a sigh of relief, hugging Maggie tightly.

"Well, now that that's over, I say we go get somethin' to eat." Beth suggested.

"Right-o, Bethy-Bee, I'm starvin'." Maggie said. The two put Jake in his crate, and went off in search of a restaurant. They settled on an Irish pub, both girls looking for some comfort food. Hershel himself was the grandchild of Irish immigrants, so Beth and Maggie felt right at home eating traditional Irish food. Beth always joked that Maggie got the drinking gene of the Greene family, while Beth got the musical side. Both girls, however, had the patience of their father, a trait which Shawn never seemed to pick up.

"So, goober, how is it havin' a hot, successful boyfriend?" Maggie asked, taking a giant swig of beer. Beth shrugged, eating a piece of rye bread.

"He's a cool guy. We have fun together." Beth replied. She was never one to "kiss and tell", as Maggie had joked. Beth was always extremely and utterly private.

"You gotta give me more to go off of than that." Maggie declared.

"Uh, he smells nice. And he likes Faulkner and Tennessee Williams." Beth said.

"This is the first boyfriend you've had in over a year, Bethy. I'm dyin' to know!" Maggie teased.

"The last one was a great big ol' bag of dicks, Mags, and I told you everything. How I wouldn't sleep with 'im, how I cared about him, how he slept with that slut whore nurse he met..." Beth growled recalling the memory, catching Shane in the act, and promptly, in true Beth fashion, told Shane that since he felt the need to copulate like a rabbit, she couldn't date him, because she wasn't into beastiality. He'd said that it was an accident, and she'd told him politely that she hoped he'd gotten the clap.

"Gareth doesn't seem like he'd do that though, right?" Maggie asked.

"Dunno. Still don't completely trust 'im yet." Beth replied coolly. She really didn't think she'd be able to trust him fully for a while, but she kept that all to herself.

"You're so...Blase about all this, Beth. Really." Maggie said.

"Well, I ain't holdin' my breath for Gareth to propose or anythin'. Not with all the work I've been caught up in." Beth said. For the past two months, Beth had been neck deep in paperwork, death certificates, and autopsies. They'd been so busy the past two weeks that Beth was usually there thirteen hours a day, which made it difficult to see Gareth. Though, as busy as she was, it was nice to have dinner with him on the nights she worked extra late.

As the girls ate, Beth felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around, not knowing who it could possibly be, and saw Rick, Glenn, and Daryl, all grinning from ear to ear. Beth rolled her eyes, grumbling. Rick and Glenn she'd love to hang out with, but Daryl...He annoyed her beyond all reason.

"Of all the gin joints in all the world..." Glenn teased. He greeted Maggie with a kiss, and Beth with a hug.

"Glenn! You're ruining girls night." Beth joked.

"It's our favorite place. No girls allowed." Daryl replied. Beth rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at the detective.

"We come here two Saturdays a month. We like to shoot the shit and hang out." Rick explained.

"Ah. Well, guess y'all can join us." Maggie said, pulling Glenn close to her, "We were talkin' 'bout Bethy's new boyfriend anyway."

"Oh? Who's the guy?" Rick asked, genuinely surprised. He'd caught a lot of hell because of Shane the last time. He'd vowed since then to stay out of Beth's love life.

"Dr. Gareth Turner, literature professor at Georgia State University." Beth replied.

"That prick? Geez, you sure know how to pick 'em. I 'spose next it'll be that fruit Mamet, huh?" Daryl asked.

"Excuse me? How do you know Gareth is a prick?" Beth asked.

"He's a man whore, ladies in an' out his apartment all hours of the night. Well, they stopped 'bout a month and a half ago, but they were there. I can tell, though, he's a liar. I don't trust 'im far as I can throw 'im. Plus he struts 'round, thinkin' he's better than everyone." Daryl said, taking a long sip of his beer.

"I'm givin' 'im the benefit of the doubt, Dixon." Beth said, "Besides, he may just think he's better than you, not everyone else."

"'Scuse me? I have a college degree too, ma'am." Daryl replied.

"Let me guess: criminal justice?" Beth teased.

"Wrong. Sociology." Daryl replied.

"Oh, excuse me." Beth said, rolling her eyes.

"Jus' sayin'. If ol' Shane Walsh is a 'great big ol' bag of dicks', then Gareth's at least a half bag, maybe more." Daryl shrugged.

"Why are you so involved in my personal life?" Beth asked.

"You're my second favorite morgue person." Daryl replied, "Carol will always be number one. But, she's my sister-in-law now, so I kinda have to like 'er."

"She an' Merle got married?" Rick asked.

"Yep. Yesterday. Seems Dr. P, well, now Dr. D, has 'erself a bun in the oven. They were plannin' on it anyway." Daryl said.

"Look at you, gossiping like an old church lady." Glenn said. Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"Carol didn't tell me." Beth said.

"Ain't told nobody else yet. Merle's got 'imself a big ol' gaggle now though." Daryl smirked.

"When you guys gonna have your own?" Rick asked, looking at Glenn and Maggie.

"Not for a while, hopefully." Glenn said.

"Yeah, ask us in a year or two." Maggie laughed.

"I'd like another niece or nephew." Beth said quietly.

"If ya keep runnin' 'round with ol' Gareth, might just wind up with one of your own." Daryl said under his breath.

"Butt munch." Beth grumbled.

"What was that?" Daryl asked.

"Butt munch. You're a freakin' butt munch." Beth growled. Maggie, Glenn, and Rick were stifling their laughter at the two, as Daryl leaned in close, looking at her beer and then her. Quickly, he grabbed the bottle of Blue Moon from her hands and took a long swig.

"Ew! That's how diseases spread!" Beth yelled.

"Why don't ya quit worryin' 'bout what I did an' go pick out your dress for prom." Daryl replied. Beth rolled her eyes, growling, and stomped Daryl's foot as hard as she could. He let out a sharp breath of air as Beth stood up, grabbing her purse.

"Well, Mags, Rick, Glenn, it was a lovely evenin'. I believe I'm gonna go home, before I punch this asshole casserole and then have to be someone's prison wife." Beth said, trying to smile. The three didn't say anything as she walked out; for that she was grateful. She began to walk home, trying to find a taxi or bus. Luckily, she'd made it to the bus stop, and she knew that the number 15 could get her home. She'd decided to call Gareth, and see what he was up to. She surmised he'd probably be with Alex or his friends, but she'd still call. She dialed his number and it rang twice. Beth thought about hanging up, but then he answered.

"Beth? Hey! Girls night end early?" Gareth asked.

"Yeah, I'm takin' the bus home. Glenn, Rick, and Dixon showed up. Dixon stole my beer and now I'm thinkin' I just wanna go walk the dog or somethin'. I figured you'd be busy, I guess I still wanted to call." Beth replied.

"Actually, I've just been grading papers. If you want, I could meet you at your apartment. We could go walk the dog together." Gareth suggested.

"I'd love that! Thanks!" Beth exclaimed.

"Alrighty then, Bethy. I'll see you soon." Gareth said, hanging up.

"Bye." Beth replied. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the way he called her "Bethy" didn't sit well with her. Her father had called her that since she was a little girl; Maggie, Shawn, Rick, Lori, Annette, everyone that was close to her called her that. Even little Judith had known her as "My Bethy", and for Gareth to call her that, after Shane had called her that, made her a little uneasy. She arrived at her apartment fifteen minutes later, walking up the three flights of stairs until she reached apartment 330. Gareth was waiting by the door, smiling widely.

"Hey, beautiful." He greeted, kissing her forehead.

"Hey yourself, handsome." Beth replied.

"So, you never did tell me how you got the name for Jake." Gareth mused, as Beth opened the door and let the puppy, Jake, out of the crate.

"Well, me an' Mags and Glenn were thinkin' up names, and we saw the State Farm commercial. His ears perked up when he heard 'This is Jake, from State Farm'. Plus, he's got little khaki paws, so we just started callin' him Jake From State Farm." Beth explained. The Caucasian Shepherd puppy, with fuzzy ears and a silver looking coat, came up to her, his tail wagging furiously.

"You ready to go for a walk, Jake?" Beth asked. The dog pranced around furiously, tripping over his large puppy paws. Gareth brought her the puppy's leash, and the two set out for a walk.

"I just always saw you as a fish person." Gareth quipped, walking down the street next to Beth.

"I've got creepy neighbors, figured I might as well get a dog that'll look scary one day." Beth chuckled, "Plus, I enrolled him in obedience school. He's going to learn all his commands in Russian."

"Why Russian?" Gareth asked.

"His breed is a Russian breed. Used to hunt bears." Beth said flatly. Gareth's eyes grew wide as he looked at the puppy.

"He's what? Six months old?" Gareth asked.

"No. He's twelve weeks." Beth replied.

"You got a dog that hunts bears? What if he eats you?" Gareth's voice was filled with concern. Beth reached down to pet the puppy, who was happily prancing along the sidewalk.

"Nah. He wouldn't eat me. It's the other people he'd have problems with. That's why I got 'im." Beth explained, "My neighbor is a creeper. If this little guy gets huge, no one will mess with me."

"Sound logic." Gareth said, petting the puppy, who seemed to be basking in the attention.

"And, if Daryl Dixon shows up to my apartment uninvited again, the dog might deter him." Beth added.

"He still bugging you?" Gareth asked.

"Partially." Beth replied, "I don't understand why he picks on me so hard."

"You're new. He picks on Alex, but Alex squirms easily. You just get irritated. The guy's not stupid, there's a reason every federal law enforcement agency wants him." Gareth mused.

"Why doesn't he just go? What's holdin' 'im back?" Beth asked.

"Well, his brother, Merle lives with him, and Merle told me that Daryl wants to take care of their dad. Stay close to home, ever since their mom died a couple of years ago." Gareth explained, "Merle said they were both adopted by Dale Horvath and his wife, came from a rough home. Daryl feels like he owes it to Dale to take care of him. He's moving into Daryl's apartment soon, anyway. What with Merle getting married and all."

"How'd you know? I didn't find out till today! Carol didn't tell me!" Beth groaned.

"The whole gang was over there last night, they had a celebratory reception. Three little girls make a lot of noise." Gareth chuckled.

"Yeah, those are Merle's stepdaughters." Beth said.

"He's adopting them." Gareth replied.

"How do you know more about them than I do? Are you that creepy?" Beth asked.

"Beth, when you live in an apartment complex with paper-thin walls, and Merle Dixon is the friendliest neighbor there, you pick up things." Gareth teased.

"I've never met 'im. Heard good things, though." Beth said.

Gareth nodded, rubbing circles on Beth's back. "The Dixon brothers are like night and day. Merle is really, really social. Daryl isn't."

"Well, he is, but he's an ass." Beth replied, laughing.

"True." Gareth laughed. Beth and Gareth held hands as they walked back to Beth's apartment, where the two walked up the third floor, catching Brian Heriot on the way out.

"Evenin', Dr. Greene! Who's the lucky gentleman?" Brian asked, extending his hand for Gareth to shake.

"Dr. Gareth Turner. I'm a professor at Georgia State." Gareth said, introducing himself.

"Well, hello there, Dr. Turner. It's nice to meet you." Brian said, "I'm Brian Heriot."

"I know who you are, Senator. It's nice to meet such a celebrity." Gareth said, smiling slightly.

"Oh, I'm not a celebrity, Dr. Turner, just a man tryin' to do right for his community." Brian said enthusiastically.

"How's Meghan and Lilly?" Beth asked.

"Oh, just fine. Meghan has a dance recital next weekend. Lilly's workin' late, I'm goin' to go get 'er some dinner." Brian explained.

"That's really sweet of you. It was nice seeing you again, Senator Heriot." Beth said. He patted her arm, looking far too enthusiastic.

"Please, call me Brian. We're neighbors." Brian said.

"Thanks. We'll see you later." Beth said, walking into the apartment. Gareth followed her, taking the leash off of Jake.

"He seem nice." Gareth said, taking an apple from the counter.

"Yeah." Beth muttered, quietly trying to keep her opinions to herself.

"You don't think so." Gareth sat matter-of-factly.

"He's got skeletons in his closet. You work for the cops, you pick up things." Beth replied.

"What's he hiding?" Gareth asked.

"He's corrupt. From what I hear, his bread ain't quite done." Beth explained. Gareth seemed to be thinking about her words.

"What's with the eyepatch?" Gareth asked.

"Accident a few years ago. Apparently, it killed his first wife and kid." Beth told him.

"You sure he's got skeletons in his closet? If he does, maybe you should be careful." Gareth said.

"I'm fine, Gareth, really." Beth said, kissing him, "It's nothing I can't handle."

"Okay. If you're sure. Listen, it's getting late. I'm gonna head on home. I'll see you tomorrow?" Gareth asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." Beth said. Gareth kissed her goodnight, hugging her tightly as he left. Beth closed the door behind him, sitting on the couch with Jake. She had to admit, having a puppy made the place a lot less lonely. Jake snuggled into her lap, a goofy look on his face. Beth scratched his belly, and he rolled over. Beth loved her new dog; she'd always had dogs on the farm. It was getting late, and Beth was feeling the stress of the past few weeks. She started to close her eyes and drift to sleep, sitting on the couch. Until there was a knock on the door. She didn't even bother to get up, she knew who it'd probably be.

"Come on in, Dixon." Beth growled.

"Wow, you psychic or somethin'?" Daryl asked, coming in. Jake jumped off the couch, growling at Daryl until Beth called the dog to her.

"You got a dog." Daryl said.

"I did. What do you want?" Beth asked.

"Forgot your wallet at the pub." Daryl replied, handing it to her. How had she forgotten it?

"Uh, thanks." Beth mumbled, taking the wallet.

"Hey." Daryl said, making Beth sit up.

"Yeah?" Beth asked.

"I'm sorry I was a dick earlier. I can be a dick, when I drink." Daryl apologized sheepishly.

"It's alright. I'm not the easiest to get along with." Beth said, motioning for him to sit down.

"I, uh, didn't mean what I said. Jus' don't really like Gareth, that's all." Daryl explained quietly.

"It's really okay, Daryl. To be honest, I don't know if I'm gonna get serious with 'im, I'm still testin' the waters." Beth admitted, "Shane put a bad taste in my mouth."

"You ain't the only one." Daryl huffed, "He's an arrogant sonbitch."

"Yeah, yeah he is." Beth mused, "I can't believe I didn't see that at first."

"It's alright. My first girlfriend—my last girlfriend too—shot me once." Daryl told her.

"What?!" Beth asked.

"She's got a temper. An' she's workin' for Brian Heriot now. She's his spokesperson, I 'spose. His new campaign manager." Daryl explained.

"Andrea? Andrea Harrison?" Beth asked.

"Yep. That'd be her." Daryl replied.

"Oh wow. Wow. I'm sorry." Beth said.

"Ah, it's nothin', really. Datin's too messy for me." Daryl joked.

"It's almost too messy for me. But, I appreciate you bringin' back my wallet." Beth said.

"No problem. I'd better get goin'. I'll see ya round." Daryl said, leaving. Beth closed the door behind him, sitting back on the couch. Beth closed her eyes again, smiling widely. It had been an eventful day, certainly, but she didn't mind the bustle, as long as she got to spend time with her family and friends. And, she surmised, that Daryl Dixon wasn't completely terrible, he could be nice when he wanted to be. She supposed she could be a good friend, and that they could get along very well. Beth closed her eyes quietly, drifting to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks. Jake was curled next to her, and Beth slept peacefully. Things were going well for Beth Greene, and she guessed that they could only go up from there.


	5. Chapter 5

**How about our Beth episode, guys! I loved it! The reviews have been phenomenal. Special thanks to some of my best supporters, PenelopePants and An Amber Pen. But you ALL are awesome! Thank you for following this and reviewing. Love you all!**

**-A**

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><p>Chapter Five:<p>

It had been exactly one week since Beth paid $800 for Jake From State Farm.

And, in one week, that puppy (who looked like a full-grown small dog), had chewed her Michael Kors purse to shreds, chewed the heel off her favorite boots, and, had somehow managed to chew the baseboard to pieces in her bathroom.

The damned dog was chewing everything. But, he was so cute that Beth couldn't hate him. In fact, in the last 24 hours, his chewing had gotten progressively better, considering she'd bought him bones to chew. He was proving to be a loyal companion for Beth; he followed her everywhere she went, cuddled with her on the couch, and obeyed her when she told him "no". It'd taken him three days to become house trained, and Beth was proud of that. Chewing she could handle, dog poop she could not.

She hated leaving him alone, but she had to go to work. So today, she came to work before anyone else, and planned to try to leave early. News of Carol's wedding to Merle Dixon had startled everyone, but what stunned them more was that she was three months pregnant. Beth couldn't help but find it entertaining. After all, she was a twenty-three-year-old virgin, and here this woman was getting married because of a pregnancy.

"So, how is married life, Dr. Peletier—I mean—Dr. Dixon?" Beth teased, going over Caesar Martinez's blood samples.

"It'll be a week tomorrow. Merle moved in with us. I have to say, the girls love it." Carol chuckled, making some notes.

"Is it weird? Gettin' married again?" Beth asked.

"Nah, not really. I've been divorced from Ed about four years now, I guess. I knew all men weren't like he was. Merle is wonderful. I couldn't have married a better man." Carol said, beaming.

Beth smiled; she loved seeing Carol so happy. "I haven't met Merle yet, but he seems like a nice guy. Is he ready to be a dad?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, I think he is. He's adopting the girls, their dad died in prison two years ago. Merle already acts like they're his. The girls have loved him from day one, especially Mika. He's kinda getting a late start in life, but that's okay." Carol explained.

"Why? Take 'im a while to settle down?" Beth asked curiously.

"I guess you could say that. He's open about his past; he used to be a drug addict. Meth was his drug of choice, and he spent time in jail for it. It just about killed Daryl and their parents." Carol replied.

"Oh wow." Beth whispered, "What made him get clean?"

"He saw his mother dying of cancer. He couldn't take her seeing him like that. He knew if he wanted any kind of life, he'd had to make a change. So he did, and now he's successful, and he's happy." Carol said.

"How long has he been sober?" Beth asked.

"Six years. He got clean when his mom was first diagnosed." Carol replied.

"I've heard from his neighbor that he's quite the social butterfly." Beth chuckled, looking over a piece of paper.

"Gareth? Yeah. Merle's a talker. We lived in the same apartment complex as the Dixons, that's how we met. Merle always fixed the stuff that the girls broke." Carol laughed.

"I don't know how you did it, Carol. Three little girls all by yourself." Beth said.

"I had some help. My friend Tyreese, he was great with the girls. Him and his wife watched them whenever I had to work. Plus my parents were always a big help. Right after the divorce, it was my best friend, Lori. But, she passed a few years ago." Carol said softly.

"Lori? How many years ago was it?" Beth asked.

"Two-and-a-half." Carol replied.

"Lori Grimes?" Beth was making sure. Carol looked up.

"How did you know her?" Carol asked, surprised.

"She's my cousin. I watch Judith all the time." Beth replied.

"Such a small world." Carol laughed, "Judy is a hoot."

"Oh, you bet!" Beth exclaimed, "That child keeps me on my toes!"

Beth continued to go over Martinez's results, which had been released two months earlier, but Beth hadn't reviewed since they got them. Dr. Porter had been in charge of it, but somehow, it seemed, he'd passed over a vital bit of information.

"Uh, Carol, did you notice that he's got sedatives in his system?" Beth asked. Carol took a look at the notes, biting her bottom lip.

"No, Dr. Greene, this is new. He was sedated. This amount tells me he was drugged, enough to put him in a coma." Carol replied.

"Yeah, I doubt he'd willingly take mirtazipine, I mean, he might have severe insomnia, but that's not something that's easily prescribed unless you have something like night terrors." Beth said.

"Whoever killed him didn't want him waking up." Carol said. Beth nodded in agreement.

"Why didn't Porter mention this to Dixon and Grimes?" Carol asked.

"Overlooked it, maybe?" Beth suggested. Carol's jaw tensed; obviously she was not happy.

However, their anger regarding Dr. Porter would have to wait.

The phone rang, and Carol answered. Her face fell as soon as she answered the phone; Beth could tell it was something very serious. She wasn't sure what to do, but she knew that it was a death. Her gut told her that this would be ugly, and as soon as Carol hung up the phone, Beth's suspicions were confirmed.

"We have another dead body. This time, it's an old warehouse out by the rail yard. Come on, Beth. We'll take Mamet with us this time." Carol said.

"Okay." Beth replied. Mamet was reluctant to go, not wanting to face Dixon, but they knew that he needed to collect DNA—and fast—and that this death may be connected to the murders of Martinez and Garrison.

However, when they arrived on the scene, it was clear—very clear—that this one would be personal for a lot of people. When Carol, Beth, and Mamet pulled up, Rick met them by the entrance outside of the tape. He motioned for the three to come over, and his face looked full of worry.

"This one is gonna be a bad one." Rick said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why?" Beth asked.

"Daryl knew the victim. So did Michonne. So did I." Rick whispered.

"Who was it?" Carol asked. Rick's face fell; something told Beth that she knew the victim, too.

"Andrea Harrison." Rick sighed. Carol took a step back; so did Mamet.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Dr. Mamet muttered, "Andrea? I just talked to her two days ago."

"She's in there. This is not going to be easy. Daryl is not dealing with this well. None of them are." Rick said. Beth couldn't imagine that they were; Andrea had been a well known attorney in the city for a while, and she was Brian Heriot's campaign manager.

Now, she was dead, and Beth knew that this wasn't just a coincidence anymore. But then again, there weren't any coincidences in the morgue.

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><p>When Beth walked into the warehouse, the scene was grizzly. Andrea's body lay sprawled on the concrete floor, a puddle of blood matting her blonde hair. Beth noticed that the woman was beautiful, and that she'd been chained up somehow. Her wrists were raw, and that was a problem. She appeared to have several stab wounds, which made Beth cringe. Then, she saw Daryl, and her heart broke for him. Even though he and Andrea had broken up years ago, he still knew her, and she'd died in a brutal way.<p>

"Daryl, I am so sorry." Beth whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. He snapped around, his face contorted into an angry, stoic glare.

"Go do your damn job, doc. I ain't here for a pity party." He growled. Taken aback, Beth went over to Andrea's body, and began to assess the damage.

"I've never seen anything like this." Beth whispered.

"Neither have I, Dr. Greene, and I've been doing this for fifteen years." Dr. Mamet replied.

"Is Dixon gonna be okay?" Beth asked. Dr. Mamet shrugged; trying to get his samples.

"I don't know, Dr. Greene. Would you be?" He asked. Beth nodded, and continued on with her work.

Dr. Mamet was already finishing his samples within minutes, and soon, Beth and Carol had bagged Andrea's body up and were carrying her to the morgue. The whole ride was silent, and everything seemed to be going in slow-motion for Beth. When they arrived and processed Andrea's body, Carol insisted everyone take the day off. Clearly, Carol was just as disturbed by the woman's sudden death as everyone else. So, Beth went home, going over her notes, and decided to take a much needed nap.

She ignored Gareth's texts, and Maggie's three calls. She'd let them both know that she'd had a rough day, and didn't feel like company.

* * *

><p>So, when she was awakened two hours later by a loud banging on her front door, she was thoroughly surprised.<p>

"DOC! OPEN YOUR DOOR! NOW!" Screamed Daryl. Beth didn't even have to guess anymore; he seemed to only pop up when she needed rest. She opened the door, and Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and another man all walked in.

"What can I do for you, guys?" Beth asked, slightly irritated but more concerned.

"Well, Bethy, my favorite sister-in law..." Glenn began.

"Short Round, I'm your only sister-in-law." Beth said, crossing her arms and giving Glenn a glare.

"You got a point." Glenn said, "Anyway, we uh, need your help with something. Since you're so connected to this whole investigation, we need to set up shop here in your apartment."

"Smooth, Rhee." Daryl muttered. Glenn rolled his eyes as Beth bit her lip.

"You want to have a bunch of cops hang out in my apartment? For what?" Beth asked, trying to clarify.

"Mainly, we need to set up surveillance. Your place is just across the hall from Brian Heriot's. We have reason to believe he could be connected with four murders here in the area." Rick explained, "And, we have reason to believe that he's connected to the murders of Andrea Harrison and Caesar Martinez."

Another man, who Beth didn't recognize, stepped forward.

"I'm Morgan Jones, US Marshall, I've been working on this case since the beginning. It seems that Brian Heriot isn't actually Brian Heriot. His real name is Philip Blake, and Philip Blake is wanted in the disappearance of three people in Savannah Georgia, and two people in Tybee Island. Ma'am, we believe your neighbor there is a serial killer. We just need to gather enough evidence to indict him." Morgan explained.

"Well, that escalated quickly." Beth said, "I have notes if you need them."

"Actually, Beth, we need to set up an observation point, that'd be more helpful. We really, really need to set up surveillance in your apartment." Rick repeated, emphasizing on the 'really'.

"My apartment? Sure, I guess. Just hide some cameras, we can get some audio recording stuff. I dunno how y'all will do this, though." Beth said.

"That's the part we need to talk to you about, Beth." Glenn said, "We need an officer here, undercover, so that they can observe our buddy across the hall. We need to keep tabs on him as much as we can."

"So?" Beth asked.

"We need an undercover officer to stay here with you. All the time. Like a roommate." Rick emphasized.

"Okay, okay. Got any of those?" Beth asked, slightly aggravated.

"Yes, actually, we do. Daryl Dixon will be your new roommate for the time being." Rick told her as quickly as he possibly could. Beth's eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open; she let out an audible, surprised gasp.

"What's the matter?" Morgan asked Rick. Glenn and Rick chuckled slightly, as Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Beth thinks that Daryl is an asshole casserole, and Daryl thinks Beth is in middle school. It's a darned good sitcom, sir." Glenn replied. Morgan stifled a laugh, and then looked straight at Beth.

"Ma'am, doctor, it's important that you cooperate. He may be on to you, ya know. You could be his next victim. If he's our guy, and we're almost certain that he is, then he'll kill anyone that could expose his dirty little secret. You need to watch your back. Dixon here is a good undercover officer, we've used him before. Now, he'll be moving his things in this afternoon. Any questions?" Morgan asked.

"How long?" Beth groaned.

"Only long enough for him to get the evidence he needs." Morgan replied.

"Well, doc, looks like you and I will be getting to know each other." Daryl teased. Beth stuck out her tongue.

"You guys couldn't get anyone else? Rick? Glenn? Michonne? What about you, marshal? You seriously couldn't find any other officer?" Beth asked.

"Dixon volunteered. Said none of the other creeps were qualified." Rick explained, his voice monotone.

"I hate all of you, just so you know. I should poison you with antifreeze laced jello." Beth said, only half-joking.

"C'mon, it's not that bad. You can tell the Heriots that he's your new boyfriend." Morgan suggested.

"They've already met my boyfriend, and he is not living with me." Beth huffed.

"Cousin? Guy friend that you friend-zoned? I don't care! Make somethin' up!" Morgan replied.

"Fine!" Beth grumbled, "But I swear, if any one of you make him stay longer than he needs, I will kill you. And you, Dixon, don't think I won't throw your happy butt on the street." Beth hissed.

"Yes, doc, ya got my word." Daryl said, rolling his eyes. Beth hoped, for her sake, that they could get what they needed and leave soon, and that Daryl wouldn't be creeping around her apartment for longer than he had to. Beth knew this would just be a bad idea; she could feel it. And, on top of that, she knew Gareth wouldn't be happy about this arrangement, either.

Daryl had returned just an hour later with all the things he would need. He opened the door—without knocking this time—and walked right in, and Beth could already feel her blood pressure rising.

"You sleep in the guest room. Throw your stuff in there." Beth said. Jake carefully trailed behind Beth, growling at Daryl as he unpacked his things.

"Jus' so ya know, I ain't happy 'bout this arrangement, neither." Daryl huffed, "Left my dad to 'is own devices. I reckon he'll damn near burn down the apartment."

"Yes. Because that's totally like having a near stranger in your home." Beth replied sarcastically.

"Ain't you just a ray of sunshine?" Daryl mumbled. Beth groaned, walking to the living room to text Gareth.

_Boy, have I got a story for you. _Beth sent.

_Really? Does it relate to the bad day? _Gareth asked.

_It IS the bad day. My bad day is currently sitting in my guest bedroom consuming an entire bag of pork rinds. _Beth replied.

_Maybe I should come over? I'd love to see you anyway. _Gareth sent. Beth smiled widely, he could be very sweet.

_Sure. I'd love that. :) _Beth sent.

_Alright. I'm on my way, Bethy. I'll see you soon. _Gareth replied. Beth anxiously awaited Gareth's arrival, and turned on the television to distract herself. However, a loud crash pulled her attention to the end of the hall.

"Dammit! Dog!" Beth heard Daryl hiss.

"Don't you touch my dog, Daryl Dixon!" Beth growled. She stood in the doorway of the guest room and saw Daryl in a stare-down with Jake, who was currently head-first in the bag of pork rinds that had belonged to Daryl.

"What's going on here?" Beth asked.

"I gave 'im an inch an' he took a mile. Ate all my snacks." Daryl grumbled. Beth rolled her eyes.

"I keep an extra stash in the cabinet. Help yourself. Jake, komne!" Beth exclaimed. Jake dropped the bag and ran over to her, wagging his tail profusely. Beth decided that since Daryl and Gareth would both be there, she would cook dinner to ease the tension. She knew explaining to her boyfriend that a homicide cop would be hiding out in her apartment wouldn't be easy, but by George, she was going to try.

So, Beth walked into the kitchen, plugging in her iPod to the docking station on the counter. One of her favorite rap songs came on, and she began to dance along to the beat, and sing along with the words.

_Now I done grew up  
>Round some people living their life in bottles<br>Granddaddy had the golden flask  
>Back stroke every day in Chicago<br>Some people like the way it feels  
>Some people wanna kill their sorrows<br>Some people wanna fit in with the popular  
>That was my problem<br>I was in the dark room  
>Loud tunes, looking to make a vow soon<br>That I'm a get fucked up, fillin' up my cup  
>I see the crowd mood<br>Changing by the minute and the record on repeat  
>Took a sip, then another sip, then somebody said to me <em>

_Why you babysittin' only two or three shots_

_Ima show you how to turn it up a knotch_

_First you get a pool full of liquor then you dive in_

"Hey! That's an interesting music choice." Beth heard Gareth say. She jumped about a mile in the air, nearly dropping her spoon.

"Oh! Gareth! I didn't hear ya come in." Beth said. Gareth walked over to her, a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine in hand.

"I hope moscato is okay. It's always a bad day cure for me." Gareth chuckled, "The flowers just seemed like they belonged in your apartment."

"Well, they're beautiful." Beth said, "And I've got the perfect vase for them."

"So, what's been up today?" Gareth asked. Before Beth could explain Daryl's residence in her apartment, the detective himself came strolling down the hall, Jake following close behind him. Beth bit her lip anxiously; she knew this would not end well at all.

"Professor, fancy seein' your here this evenin'." Daryl nodded, grabbing a beer from the cooler next to the table.

"Very fancy, detective. Beth, why is this man in your apartment?" Gareth asked, obviously flabbergasted.

"Yeah, about that...Okay, so, we're in the middle of a huge investigation, and well, Daryl is being forced to stay with me. For the time being, at least. Definitely not by my choice." Beth explained, groaning.

"Oh, okay." Gareth said.

"Relax, Turner. Ain't nothin' goin' on. Obviously she's fawnin' all over you. I'm just here to catch a killer." Daryl explained.

"Yeah, this is a lot to take in." Gareth admitted.

Beth put her arms around him kissing his cheek. "Gareth, just trust me, okay? As soon as he's got all the evidence he needs, he's outta here. You're my boyfriend, Gareth. Just trust me."

"I do, Beth. It's just...Weird. Part of me worries about you, whether or not you're safe, ya know?" Gareth asked.

"You're sweet to worry." Beth said. She finished cooking dinner, and the three ate in relative silence. Gareth insisted he needed to get home early to grade papers, while Beth began to clean up. Surprisingly, Daryl walked over to stand at the sink next to her, grabbing a towel to help dry the dishes.

"Thanks, Daryl." Beth whispered.

"No problem. You cooked, figured I might as well help ya clean up." Daryl replied.

"It's not that I don't like you here, I just know Gareth doesn't like it." Beth confessed, washing a plate. Daryl took it from her to dry, shrugging.

"If he don't trust you, he ain't worth keepin'. Jus' 'member that. You're not an idiot, you made it through med school." Daryl told her.

"Yeah, true." Beth chuckled, washing another pot.

"Why don't ya jus' run this crap through the dishwasher?" Daryl asked.

"Dishwasher's broken. Maintenance said they fixed it, but they didn't really." Beth shrugged.

"Hell, Greene, I'll fix it for ya. It ain't hard." Daryl said.

"Really?" Beth asked. Daryl nodded.

"I'll just bring my tools tomorrow, an' I'll fix it. It'll run good as new. Promise." Daryl said.

"Thanks, Daryl." Beth said, smiling.

"Don't mention it." Daryl said. After the two finished the dishes, Beth got a shower, deciding to hop into bed early. There were still no texts from Gareth; so she figured he was still angry or upset or whatever the heck he was feeling. Still, Beth needed him to trust her. As Jake curled up on the end of the bed with her, Beth smiled. She hoped that they'd be able to get enough evidence on Brian Heriot soon, that way they could actually arrest him and bring him to justice. And, she also hoped that she and Daryl would be able to adjust to each other. Beth fell asleep easily. She was relatively comfortable, and had been been asleep for several hours when her phone started ringing violently on her night stand. She didn't even bother with the caller ID; she was too groggy for that.

"Hello?" Beth asked.

"Beth?" The voice on the other end of the phone wasn't one she recognized.

"Yeah. It's Beth." Beth replied.

"This is Detective Michonne Benjamin. Your sister and her husband have been kidnapped, we believe by a drug cartel." Michonne explained.

And in that moment, Beth felt as if her entire world came to a screeching halt.


	6. Chapter 6

**WOW! The amazing response is really incredible! Thank you so much for everything! You guys are the best! I'm so excited for the rest of the season for The Walking Dead. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Special thanks to PenelopePants and jazznsmoke! Love all of you!**

**-Mandy **

* * *

><p>Chapter Six:<p>

"Kidnapped? What do you mean by 'kidnapped'?! What the hell does that mean, detective?!" Beth asked, panicking, as she scrambled to put on clothes.

"Your sister has been prosecuting a big name drug dealer, the leader of a biker gang known around Atlanta as the Claimers. They're originally from out west, liked to frequent Sturgis, South Dakota. Recently made their way down here, more money for less product." Michonne explained, "Joe posted bond two weeks ago, since then it's been a constant string of threats."

"And you guys willingly let him post bail? A guy with—I'm assuming—a hefty criminal record. Wow, you guys are smart." Beth huffed, trying to get her legs into her blue jeans.

"Listen, doctor, I didn't make the rules, and I sure as hell didn't let Joe Kober out of the Fulton County Detention Center, either. We just need you to be aware, we're doing all we can." Michonne explained.

Beth bit her lip hard—so hard she could taste blood, and swallowed back tears. She couldn't cry; not now.

"Have you called Rick? Daryl? Anyone?" Beth asked.

"They're homicide, but since Rick is family, I let 'im know. I know it's hard, but we really are doing all we can." Michonne told her. Beth tried to keep the phone steady in her hand.

"Is there _any _way we can track them down? Any way we can solve this? What about a SWAT team?" Beth asked.

"We can't send a SWAT team until we know where they are. Right now, we're trying to track down any leads we can. I'll keep you updated. I'm sorry, Beth." Michonne said.

"It's okay, really, I understand." Beth said calmly, "I do. It's just my sister, you know? Her an' Glenn. They're my family. I love them."

"I understand, Beth. Like I said, I'll keep you posted." Michonne replied, hanging up. Beth finished putting on her shirt, throwing her hair into a loose ponytail. She put on her glasses, grabbed her sneakers, and marched across the hall, banging on Daryl's bedroom door, until she heard him cuss and mutter as he answered.

"What the hell you want, doc? It's two-thirty in the mornin'." Daryl said, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Maggie an' Glenn were kidnapped by a bunch of bikers. Man named Joe Kober. You familiar with 'im?" Beth asked. Her stance was strong, her shoulders were squared. She'd be damned if she didn't try to help her only sister.

"Joe Kober? Wasn't he in the.." Daryl began.

"Fulton County Detention Center? Yeah. He posted bail. Two weeks ago." Beth replied curtly. Daryl took a deep breath in as Beth's jaw tensed.

"An' you're sure he took your sister an' Glenn?" Daryl asked.

"Michonne Benjamin just called me and told me. I wouldn't be waking you up in the middle of the night if it wasn't important, Daryl." Beth said.

"So, why you tellin' me? That's SVU's problem. I'm homicide." Daryl replied.

"No, no, you don't get to do that. You're one of the best. Michonne knows it, Glenn knows it, Rick knows it, hell, even Gareth knows it. You're a tracker. You can track. You can help me find out where the hell they are." Beth said, her voice threatening to break.

"That's against the rules, Greene. Can't do that." Daryl said.

"Yes, you can, and you will. I need your help. I don't want those two in my morgue." Beth huffed. Daryl seemed to be studying her for a moment, taking in the crazed look in her eye. Beth was serious; she'd track down whoever it was at whichever biker bar they happened to frequent. She didn't care, she just needed to find Glenn and Maggie.

"Fine. Fine, I'll help you. But we can't get directly involved." Daryl told her. She nodded.

"So, what's the first thing we do?" Beth asked.

"I happen to know one of Joe's old runnin' buddies, sold drugs for 'im for a while. He'll know where to look, if anythin'." Daryl replied.

"Who would that be?" Beth asked.

"Merle." Daryl said.

* * *

><p>They'd asked to meet Merle at his and Carol's new place. By the time they pulled up in Beth's black mustang, Merle was already waiting on the front porch, smoking a cigarette. He seemed troubled, and Beth thought he looked a little rough for the sweet doctor who worked with her.<p>

"Merle." Daryl greeted, hugging his brother.

"Daryl. An' who would this be? Looks like Little Bo Peep to me." Merle teased.

"Doctor Beth Greene, Fulton County Medical Examiner's Office." Beth said, sticking out her hand. Merle shook it, grinning.

"So you work with Miss Carol? You're little Doc Greene." Merle said, making the connection, "She thinks mighty highly of you."

"Well, I think mighty highly of her, too, Merle." Beth said.

"So, what y'all here for, in the middle of the night? What's the 'mergency?" Merle asked.

"My sister, Maggie Rhee, is a prosecutor. Works for the DA. She and her husband, who is an Atlanta cop, were apparently taken by a man named Joe Kober. You know him?" Beth asked. Merle's face grew pale, the grin no longer there. He looked around, and quieted his voice.

"Yeah, I know 'im." Merle replied, "Ain't nothin' good about him."

"You know where we can find 'im?" Daryl asked. Merle looked at Beth and Daryl in disbelief, hoping they were joking somehow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Joe runs 'imself a bar, one of 'is only legal business ventures. It's outside the city on the highway, called Rattlesnake Saloon. Ya can't miss it, it's just off the highway on the right, leavin' Atlanta. He'll be there. So will Len an' Lou." Merle explained.

"Good. Now I know where to find them." Beth said, taking off to her car.

"Wait, wait, hold up a sec, Bo Peep. You ain't seriously thinkin' of goin' out there an' tellin' Joe Kober what's what, are you? That's how ya get your little happy self killed." Merle said.

"Don't care. Got a .357 in my car. I'll do whatever I've gotta do to make sure Maggie's okay. If that's marchin' in there, callin' the cops, so be it." Beth replied.

"Little brother, she has lost her damn mind." Beth heard Merle say. Daryl walked quickly behind her, grabbing her arm.

"Hold up just a sec, Beth. We need to just walk in there, see if we can see Joe, then call the police. We can't go shoot 'em all." Daryl said. Beth surmised that he was right, and nodded.

"Fine. I'll call Michonne, let 'er know. Then, when we get there, we can call for backup." Beth said.

"Got yourself a firecracker, huh little brother?" Merle asked.

"She ain't mine." Daryl said, "Just know her."

"Well, she ain't one to mess with. Y'all please be careful, alright? I'd like my son or daughter to meet their uncle." Merle said.

"You got it, Merle." Daryl replied, "We'll be okay."

Beth hopped in the drivers seat, shifting gears as the loud V8 engine roared to life. Daryl sat in the passenger seat, staring at her incredulously.

"Whatcha starin' at, Daryl?" Beth asked, shifting gears as she picked up speed.

"Didn't expect ya to be drivin' a stick shift. Or a Mustang, much less one like this." Daryl said, smirking.

"Well, to tell you the truth, this was a present. My first car was a 1994 Chevrolet Cavalier, I bought it with babysittin' money and tips from waitin' tables at 17. My parents told me if I graduated medical school, they'd get me my dream car. I graduated medical school, so they surprised me with this, the day before graduation." Beth explained. Daryl nodded.

"My first truck was a '74 Ford. My dad bought it for me, told me if I fixed it up, he'd pay for gas. So I fixed it up. He was surprised." Daryl said, chuckling.

"Well, I was always racin'. When Rick an' Shawn were younger, they fixed up this fox body Mustang, and drag raced it. I wanted a Mustang ever since." Beth said.

"Well, a black Mustang, with a manual transmission? That's badass, if I say so myself." Daryl said.

"Well, it's gonna be even more badass if we have to make a quick exit." Beth replied, "Especially after I call the cops on that Joe guy's sorry ass."

"You need to be careful, doc." Daryl told her, "These ain't your run-of-the-mill criminals. These guys'll kiss you."

"I know. I see what people like him do every day. That's why I keep a gun in my car." Beth said.

"You serious?" Daryl asked.

"Check under your seat." Beth replied. Daryl reached down, and sure enough, pulled out a Taurus .357, with a short barrel, a surprised look coming over his features. He checked the chamber, and then gasped.

"It's loaded?!" Daryl asked, quite surprised.

"Duh. Yes, Daryl, I'm gonna carry around an unloaded gun, because that'll deter a criminal." Beth said sarcastically.

"You've got hollow points in here! What the hell?!" Daryl asked.

"Don't want 'em walkin' away." Beth replied coolly, speeding up on the highway. She was going nearly 95 miles per hour, and though Daryl didn't typically panic, he was starting to reach for the steering wheel as Beth shifted into gear again.

"Uh, Beth, doc, you might wanna slow down." Daryl muttered.

"No." Was all that Beth replied, as she headed outside the city. Before they knew it, they were entering King County, and the Rattlesnake Saloon appeared in view, clear as day. She parked on the far end of the parking lot, secretly wishing that her car was just a little bit quieter. Beth reached over, grabbing her gun, checking the chamber, and sticking it in her purse.

"What the hell are you doin'? We don't go in guns blazin', we gotta play it cool." Daryl explained.

"Tell me you don't have something on you right now." Beth snapped. Daryl didn't, just revealing a police issued Glock in a shoulder-holster under his angel wing vest. Beth rolled her eyes, walking up to the front, Daryl trailing along behind her, muttering obscenities under his breath at the reckless behavior that Beth was displaying. Beth swung open the door, looking wildly at the bar's patrons. It seems that there were only a few stragglers, the rest had gone home.

"Well, missy, you look like you're lookin' for someone. Why don't you mosey over here, lemme help ya out." Called the bartender. Beth walked fearlessly over to the bar, and Daryl walked closely behind.

"Hey there, sir. My name is Dr. Beth Greene, an' I'm lookin' for a gentleman, heard he might be able to help me out." Beth replied, sweet as could be. Daryl was amazed; she could pour on the charm.

"Whatcha need, ma'am? Lost a boyfriend? Husband? Daddy?" The bartender asked.

"No, actually. I ain't married, an' daddy's drinkin' days are long behind 'im. Actually, I was lookin' for a man by the name of Joe Kober." Beth said, a smile wide on her face. The bartender smiled, drying another glass, and placing it behind the counter.

"Well, you're in luck, ma'am. You're lookin' right at 'im." Joe said, extending his hand. Beth shook it, batting her eyes in a delicate, sweet manner. Daryl had to admit, she had Joe wrapped around her finger and she'd only been in there all of five minutes.

"Mr. Kober, you're just the man I've been lookin' for. I've heard quite a bit about you." Beth said sweetly. Joe smiled, a gleam in his eye. It made Daryl's blood run cold.

"Good things, I hope." Joe replied.

"I guess you could say that." Beth said, pulling out her phone, "See this picture? This is my sister, Maggie Rhee. That's her husband, Glenn. I'm lookin' for both of 'em, seems they've turned up missin'. They said that this was where they were headed. You see 'em in here? See, Mags isn't the type to ignore my phone calls, she wouldn't just up an' run away, not without tellin' me or my brother. The police ain't gonna do anythin' until they've been missin' 48 hours, an' I work in the morgue, I don't wanna do an autopsy on my only sister's body. I figured if anyone had seen them, it might be you." Beth knew she was stretching the truth, but she didn't care. Yes, the police already knew Maggie and Glenn were gone, but Joe didn't need to know that.

"Little miss, do you even know what you're getting into, walkin' into a place like this at this time of night?" Joe asked, smirking. Beth leaned over the bar, not even thinking.

"Of course I do, Mr. Kober. An' I'll have you know, I ain't afraid of any of you in here. Now, I'm not accusin' you of anythin', because obviously you've been behind this bar all night, an' I'm sure you're tired. I just need to know if you've seen 'em at all, sir." Beth said, her voice sweet as sugar, but her eyes nearly black. Joe looked at Daryl, and then back at Beth.

"Why'd you bring a cop in here, then?" Joe asked, "Because I know who his brother is, and I know who Daryl is."

"Daryl's with me. His division is homicide, anyway, Joe. Now, here's the thing, either you can tell me what you know, help me find my only sister, or, I can shoot you point-blank and then drop the other three guys in this bar so quick it'll make your head spin." Beth threatened. Joe laughed.

"You couldn't hurt a fly, honey. You might be intimidating, if I were a daffodil." Joe replied, laughing. Quickly, Beth removed her revolver from her purse, pulling the hammer back and pointing it straight at Joe's head.

"I grew up country, Joe. I learned how to shoot before I learned how to read. I've got more than enough rounds to drop everyone in this bar. An' I know you're reachin' for that gun underneath the bar. I ain't an idiot. I'm not lookin' to get you arrested, but I sure as hell ain't leavin' till you tell me what you know." Beth growled. Joe looked thoroughly stunned, and raised his hands in defeat. The other three men left the bar in a hurry, letting the doors swing behind them.

"Alright, yes, doc, I saw 'em both here, tonight. They didn't exactly come in, though. They were on their way in, someone stopped 'em." Joe replied.

"And why the damn hell did you not call the cops?!" Beth growled.

"With all do respect, ma'am, I'm on the opposite side of the law." Joe explained.

"What'd the person look like?" Beth asked.

"It was two men. Couple of Atlanta thugs, I know one is named Crowley. The other is Robbie Shumpert. He's come in here before." Joe answered.

"So you're sayin' you don't have anythin' to do with my sister bein' gone? That this isn't because you're out on bail?" Beth asked.

"Me? No. I may have my vices, Miss Beth, but kidnapping isn't my game. If they owed me something, I'd just kill 'em. No, I know who those guys work for, though. It's Senator Heriot." Joe replied. Beth was obviously shocked, her mouth ajar for a good five seconds.

"You know the guy?" Joe asked.

"He's my neighbor." Beth replied.

"Well, he offed his campaign manager yesterday. He tried to hire one of my boys to 'take care of it'. We're not in the murder for hire business, though." Joe said.

Beth released the hammer of her gun, sticking it back in her purse. "Well, Mr. Kober, I appreciate the honesty. How do you know they work for Senator Heriot?" Beth asked.

"Shumpert and Crowley run their mouth." Joe replied.

"Lucky for us then, right?" Beth asked. Joe shrugged. Beth dug into her pocket, pulling out a $20 bill and slamming it on the counter.

"What's that for?" Joe asked.

"I need a shot. Or two. Hell, I dunno. Gimme a couple of shots of Jack. Daryl will have one, too. Least I could do, since I pointed a gun in your face an' all. Keep the rest, consider it a tip." Beth shrugged. Joe's face erupted in a smile, and Daryl walked closer to the bar. Beth took her shots quickly, wincing slightly as the whiskey burned. Daryl took his shot quickly as well, sliding the shot glass back toward Joe.

"Well, little miss, you're a spitfire, I'll give ya that. You're welcome here any time. Never met a little lady quite like yourself." Joe laughed.

"Well, Mr. Kober—Joe—I'm not quite like normal little ladies." Beth replied, chuckling.

"Daryl, send Merle my regards. Hear he's tied the knot. You're welcome here too, when you're not wearin' a badge or gun." Joe said.

"Thanks." Daryl muttered.

"Thank you, for the information and for the whiskey, but it seems I need to go skin myself a politician. Have a lovely evenin', Joe." Beth said, waving as she walked out the door. Joe bid her farewell, as Daryl walked out behind her. Beth climbed into her Mustang, and Daryl climbed in behind her, a look of amusement on his face.

"Greene, I didn't take ya for a biker chick." Daryl laughed. Beth was again speeding on the highway, and Daryl was, again, holding on to the roof handle.

"Shawn used to have a drinkin' problem, had a few problems for a while, actually. I've had to drag him outta more bars than I can count, kick off a few unneighborly types." Beth replied as they drove into Atlanta. Beth reached for her cell phone, and noticed she had a missed call from Michonne.

"Michonne? What's goin' on?" Beth asked.

"We, um, found your sister and brother-in-law." Michonne said. Beth's stomach dropped; she was afraid of the worst.

"Yeah?" Beth whispered.

"They're okay. They're at Atlanta Medical Center now. I don't know any other details. Turns out, it wasn't Joe." Michonne explained.

"They're okay? Oh thank God. Oh thank you, thank you Michonne! I did know it wasn't Joe...I kind of stopped by his bar, asked a few questions." Beth explained sheepishly.

"You _stopped by his bar?_" Michonne repeated, asking Beth.

"Yeah. I did." Beth replied.

"Do you realize how dangerous that is?! You could've gotten yourself killed!" Michonne exclaimed.

"I know, I know. But Joe did tell me Glenn and Maggie met two guys in the bar parking lot. Crowley and Shumpert were their names. Robbie Shumpert. I didn't get a first name on Crowley." Beth replied.

"Wait. You got names?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah. Seems Joe will talk to young blondes." Beth replied.

"Well, that's a start. Anyway, come on down here. Maggie will wanna see you." Michonne replied, hanging up the phone. Beth leaned back into her seat, sighing heavily.

"So where we go now?" Daryl asked.

"Atlanta Regional Medical Center. They're there. But they're alive. They're okay." Beth told him.

"Alright then. Atlanta it is." Daryl said. The two sped off, connecting with the interstate and driving into the city. The two arrived, parking at the emergency room, and rushing in. Beth's parents and her brother were already there waiting, with Shawn pacing back and forth.

"Guys! Guys! Where's Maggie?" Beth asked. Maggie came walking out of the bathroom, a sad look on her face.

"Hey, I'm okay." Maggie said, her eyes tearful. Beth hugged her sister tightly, crying.

"Where's Glenn?" Beth asked.

"He's in surgery. A collapsed lung." Maggie said tearfully.

"Alright, that's common. They can fix that. Really, it happens all the time, Mags. It's an easy fix." Beth tried to be reassuring, but she knew that it was pointless, especially because Maggie had always been a worrier, and this would make it worse.

Fortunately for them, the doctor emerged an hour later, saying that Glenn would be fine and that he was lucky he got to the hospital in time. Beth breathed a sigh of relief, and decided to return to her apartment with Daryl. The two walked up to the third floor, into Beth's apartment, both equally exhausted.

"I'm gonna go to sleep for a while. Night." Daryl mumbled, hitting the couch as soon as he could. Beth yawned, deliriously walking into the bathroom and washing her face. When she returned, Daryl was no longer on the couch. All it took was Beth to walk down the hall to see that Daryl was mistakenly lying in her bed.

"Daryl. Get up." Beth said, trying to shake him.

"No." Daryl mumbled, rolling over. Beth huffed. It was useless. Beth decided to pick her battles, and climbed into bed next to him. At least the bed was warm, and she was too tired to care.

After all, just a few hours couldn't hurt anything, right?


	7. Chapter 7

**So...That was the worst MSF in history. I will continue my Bethyl fics, because I feel that Emily Kinney was totally shafted. I love Beth, and she'll live on through me. And every other Bethyl writer. Keep calm and Bethyl on! Love all of you!**

**-A**

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven:<p>

Beth had set an alarm, so she could know when to wake up and make Daryl leave her bed. She remembered setting it; eight o'clock. She knew neither of them had to work the next day, but she didn't want some surly, scraggly-haired man in her bed for more than a couple of hours. She knew that all she'd have to do is wake him up, tell him to move his ass to his own bed, and then she'd be able to sleep for the rest of the day.

So, imagine her surprise when she awoke at 11:30 a.m., with Daryl Dixon next to her, and Rick Grimes looming over her bed.

"Shit." She mumbled, sitting straight up.

"Uh, got somethin' you wanna tell me, Beth?" Rick asked, cocking a head to the side.

"It's a funny story, really." Beth chuckled, trying to deflect Rick's signature steely glare.

"I'm sure it's hilarious." Rick replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"We, uh, went to the Rattlesnake Saloon last night. Talked to Joe Kober." Beth muttered, suddenly feeling embarrassed, as if the events of the wee morning hours didn't happen.

"Oh, I know. Michonne called me—flippin' her damn lid—and told me. Do you realize how dangerous that was, Beth? Talkin' to a guy with a record like his?" Rick asked.

"Yep. I do, actually. He's actually quite personable when you're wavin' a .357 in his face." Beth replied flatly.

"What the hell, Beth?! You're a doctor, not the Godfather! You could've been killed!" Rick snapped.

"Yeah, I know that, too. Four years of medical school, Rick." Beth said sarcastically.

"Well obviously you must have been on some kind of party drug, because you were out of your damn mind." Rick said, a hand on his hip.

"No, Rick, I wasn't." Beth said, standing up, staring him down, "My sister and brother-in-law were in trouble. She's the only one I've got, and I don't want 'er endin' up like the last one. Or have you forgotten all about that?" Beth asked coolly. Rick winced. Beth knew she probably took it too far, but still, he needed to understand.

"No, Beth, I haven't forgotten at all. That's why you should've let Michonne handle it." Rick said calmly.

"No, Rick. Y'all are great at what you do—really, you are—but you already saw what they did to Glenn. I couldn't let 'em hurt Maggie—I wasn't gonna let them kill her." Beth explained. Rick remained calm for a second, taking in her words. Daryl sat up, groggily, looking around, and then settled his eyes on Rick.

"Mornin', Grimes." Daryl said nonchalantly.

"You're no better, Dixon. You're gonna get yourself killed!" Rick exclaimed. Daryl rubbed his eyes, looking at Beth and then Rick.

"This about last night?" Daryl asked.

"No, Daryl, it's about that fight with the Georgia Tech majorettes at the Christmas parade five years ago. Of course it's about last night, dumbass!" Rick all but yelled.

"To be fair, I went so she wouldn't get 'erself killed. She did most of the talkin'." Daryl explained. Rick looked at Beth, who smiled sheepishly.

"An' she pulled a gun on Joe Kober, too. Cocked the hammer back an' threatened to get 'im on speakin' terms with Jesus." Daryl added.

"Yeah, well aware of that. And you let her?!" Rick asked.

"What was I 'sposed to do? Confiscate her gun? She's got a pistol permit—it's still for King County an' your ol' pal even signed off on it. She got 'er information." Daryl said, "She even bought a couple shots from 'im."

"Sweet mother of God, Elizabeth Greene. You are, by far, the stupidest person I've ever met. He could've shot you dead in an instant." Rick exclaimed.

"Yeah, but he didn't. He gave 'er all the information she wanted. She got the job done." Daryl said, in Beth's defense.

"If I do recall, Rick, you pistol whipped someone not too long ago, am I right?" Beth mentioned. Rick snapped his head toward her, narrowing his eyes.

"This ain't about me." Rick replied.

"It's the same thing, though. An' besides, Joe told me everything I needed to know. Got two guys arrested, now didn't it?" Beth asked. Rick couldn't argue, he knew she was right.

"Are we done here? 'Cause I'm starvin'." Daryl said.

"No, we are not. What the hell were you doin' in her bed?" Rick asked. Beth rolled her eyes.

"Nothing, dad. We rolled in at five-thirty. He just kinda collapsed like a blob." Beth replied flatly.

"Don't you have a boyfriend? That looks suspicious." Rick said.

"Course it does, Grimes. But I can assure you, I made 'er keep 'er hands to 'erself. Wasn't easy, that girl's got a wild streak. But we kept our pants on." Daryl said, his face deadpan.

"That isn't what happened and you know it, Daryl! Besides, like I would even consider doin' anythin' with Han Solo's sidekick!" Beth exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Rick couldn't help but chuckle.

"Suit yourself, sunshine, I'ma go find some grub." Daryl said, getting up and walking out of the room. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes. Beth looked at Rick in confusion, saying nothing.

"What does Gareth think about this arrangement?" Rick asked. Beth straightened up her shoulders, looking at him stoically.

"Excuse me?" Beth asked, raising her eyebrows.

"What does Gareth think about this? Daryl livin' with you?" Rick asked again.

"Uh, he's not a big fan at all. Can't say I blame 'im." Beth replied, sighing.

"I worry 'bout you, Bethy-bee. You haven't been the same since Lori died." Rick said. He'd finally said it. Beth knew everyone had worried about her seemingly fragile emotional state, but she had been healing—slowly but surely. It was true, she'd had a brush with attempting suicide since Lori's brutal death; Beth being closer to Lori than she was to anyone else except for Maggie. But, she'd overcome it, and she was all the wiser for it.

"Rick, I'm fine. Really. What's with this sudden concern?" Beth asked.

"After Shane, I just worry about you. I don't want you to get into trouble." Rick said.

"I'm fine. Trust me. Stressed out, but fine." Beth answered.

"Alright. Just be careful, okay? Promise me you won't do anything stupid like this again. Technically, I could get you for bringin' a gun in a bar, but I'll look the other way this time." Rick said, walking toward the door.

"Alright. Cross my heart, won't do anythin' crazy like that again." Beth promised.

"Daryl!" Rick yelled, walking toward the front door, "I'm headed out. Remember, surveillance tonight!"

"Got it, Rick. See ya round." Daryl muttered, eating a plate full of eggs. Rick walked out, and Beth walked over to the breakfast bar, checking her phone. Sure enough, Gareth had text her.

_Morning, lovely. How are you? _

_I'm tired. But good. What are your plans today? _Beth asked.

_I was thinking of going to a new club tonight with a lovely blonde doctor. How would you like to go? _Gareth asked.

_I'd love to! _Beth replied. Gareth had text her back, saying he'd pick her up at 6:30 for dinner, and then they'd head to the club for drinks and dancing later. Beth smiled at his reply; she liked hanging out with Gareth. He was a breath of fresh air, compared to spending most of her days with cold bodies and introverted doctors. True, Beth was kind of an introvert herself, but she liked being around people like Gareth, who carried a certain air of confidence about them.

* * *

><p>Beth began getting ready at 4:30. She showered, curled her hair, making a braid halo at the crown of her head, put on her makeup, and then slipped into a dark purple party dress that came just above the knee. If she said so herself, she looked pretty good. Daryl had already left, following Brian Heriot to a fundraiser, and Beth waited on Gareth to show up. Sure enough, 6:30 rolled around and he was there, smiling brightly, with a bouquet of flowers.<p>

"Hey, Beth! Wow, you look absolutely beautiful." Gareth said, smiling.

Beth blushed. "Thanks, hon. Figured I'd change out of the scrubs for a change." She said.

"Well, you look incredible, really. Now I feel under dressed." Gareth teased. Beth put the flowers in a vase, and Gareth looked around, noticing the absence of Daryl.

"So where's Dixon?" He asked.

"Gone. Surveillance." Beth replied. She couldn't say too much about it; she figured that her answer would suffice.

"Ah. Well, you ready to go? I made reservations for us at La Tavola." Gareth said. Beth smiled widely, excited that they were going out.

"I can't wait! Looks like it'll be fun." Beth replied. The two walked downstairs, down to where Gareth had parked his car on the street. Beth climbed in the passenger seat, and the two drove to the restaurant. The two had a lovely dinner, Beth enjoying her ravioli, and Gareth ordering a few glasses of wine. Beth chose to drink soda, she wasn't a fan of alcohol. After dinner, Gareth took her to a club, Terminus, where he began to drink, and the two began to dance.

"Gareth, don't you think you need to slow down?" Beth asked. He'd had three glasses of wine at dinner, and already had three shots of tequila.

"I'm fine, honey. Really. You sure you don't want anything?" He asked, smiling.

"No, I'm fine, I don't need anything." Beth replied, patting his arm in reassurance. They'd met some of Gareth's friends, and were having a fun time, until Gareth started to drink more heavily. He'd ordered vodka and more tequila, and then two Jack and cokes. Beth knew he was drunk, and if she were being honest, she didn't like it.

"Gareth, I really think you need to slow it down. You're gonna get sick. All that alcohol isn't good for you." Beth said softly.

"Oh Beth, I said I'm fine. I know how to handle my alcohol." Gareth replied, his speech slurred just slightly. Her friends, Sasha and Bob met up with them, too, and Beth was glad that Bob and Sasha were choosing to stay sober like she was.

"That's the third time he's gone up to the bar." Beth said worriedly.

"No thanks. One year sober, I ain't messin' that up now." Bob said, sipping on a Sprite. Sasha nodded emphatically.

"I don't like how much he's drinkin'. I really don't. I've seen what too much alcohol can do to a person." Beth said, sipping her own Dr. Pepper.

"Yeah, you sure you wanna go home with that?" Sasha asked, only half-joking.

"No, I'm not." Beth replied flatly, "But I don't want to leave 'im alone."

"You're not his babysitter, Beth. You're a doctor." Bob said sternly. Beth nodded as Gareth came back, another drink in hand.

"Beth, we should get out of here." Gareth said, slur in his speech.

"Gareth, I don't think that's a great idea." Beth said.

"Beth, come on! We just need to get outta here. We can go back to my place. Or yours." Gareth said, this time, grabbing Beth's arm. Sasha and Bob looked concerned, but Beth gave them a reassuring glare.

"Come on, Gareth." Beth said, helping him stay stable. She walked him toward the door, and stood next to the street, and began trying to hail a cab.

"Why you calling a cab, Bethy? We can drive home." Gareth said.

"Gareth, you're drunk. I'm callin' you a cab. I'm goin' back home." Beth explained.

"You're not going home with me?" Gareth asked.

"No. That's not a good idea." Beth replied.

The look on Gareth's face changed suddenly; he went from looking carefree to stoic in just a matter of seconds.

"Are you afraid of me, Beth?" Gareth asked darkly, throwing Beth off guard.

"No, Gareth. But you're drunk. I can't let you get sick." Beth replied, trying to keep the peace. She'd seen this several times before in patients when she shadowed in the emergency room; and she really didn't like it.

"Beth, we're going back to your place." Gareth said. He didn't suggest it this time, he ordered it. The hair on the back of Beth's neck stood up; she was growing quite concerned.

"Gareth, you need to get in the cab and go home. I'll check on you tomorrow." Beth snapped. This time, however, Gareth grabbed her by the arm, shoving her into the cab with him. He called out the address of Beth's apartment, and Beth grew concerned. They weren't, in reality, all that far from where she lived, but Gareth's mood had changed drastically, and Beth was concerned.

"We're going to go back to your apartment and we're gonna have a nice time, Beth. That's what's gonna happen." Gareth whispered. Beth nodded quietly, trying to scoot to the other end of the cab.

"Why are you trying to get away from me, Beth? Don't you wanna spend time with me?" Gareth asked.

"O—of course, Gareth." Beth muttered, "I'm just really sleepy."

"No you're not. You just don't wanna be here with me. Don't worry, we're going back to your place." Gareth hissed. Beth suddenly felt terrified; normally she could hold her own, but this was quite different. Soon, they arrived in front of Beth's apartment building, and Gareth drug her out of the cab, and up the stairs to her apartment.

"Gareth—Gareth you need to let me go." Beth whispered. This seemed only to enrage Gareth, who grabbed Beth's hair and began to drag her—slowly—up the stairs. Beth felt like he was ripping all the hair out of her head, and her eyes began to tear up.

"Shut up! Shut. Up." Gareth hissed through gritted teeth. Beth tried to get away, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward her apartment door.

"Open it. Now." Gareth ordered. She opened the door, and feared what Gareth would do. He yanked her in as hard as he could, slamming her against the wall so hard that she felt all the air leave her body.

"Don't touch me!" Beth yelled. Gareth surprised her by delivering a sharp slap to her face, causing her lip to bust.

"You can't tell me what to do! I never wanted to hurt you. But you'd rather spend your time with Dixon." Gareth snarled.

"Gareth, no, I don't. I promise I don't. Gareth, I wanted to spend my time with you." Beth began to plead.

"Wanted? Past tense?" Gareth yelled, throwing Beth into the coffee table. She was stunned, and as she tried to stand up, Gareth grabbed her hair again, and started to drag her down the hall. Jake, hearing the commotion, managed to pry the bedroom door open, and came snarling into the living room, biting Gareth's leg. Gareth kicked him—hard—across the room, as Beth screamed in horror.

"I love you, Beth! Don't you see that? I wanted to tell you sooner. I wanted to show you. But now, I can't, because you're sleeping with that man!" Gareth yelled. Beth couldn't understand how his personality shifted so dramatically.

"Gareth, stop! Stop it! You're hurting me!" Beth screamed. She slapped him—hard—and he reciprocated, throwing her into the wall so hard that he left a Beth-sized dent in the sheet rock. She was on the ground now, trying to crawl to her room—where her gun was—and hopefully put an end to whatever psychotic tirade he was on. Jake followed her, growling and snarling. He was still only a puppy, and not his full size. Unfortunately, that made it easy for Gareth to move him out of the way. Beth pushed the dog forward, ordering him ahead of her. She tried to crawl, she needed to get to the bedroom.

However, Gareth grabbed her feet, and began to drag her back to the living room. Beth began to scream and kick, getting free just long enough to get her footing, before Gareth grabbed her from behind, and tackled her to the floor. Beth bit his arm, hard enough to draw blood, and began to fight him as he slammed her head into the hardwood floor repeatedly. Jake barked, the hair on his body standing up. Gareth kicked him again, this time sending him into the TV stand.

"My dog! Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch him! Let me go!" Beth screamed, trying to get out of his grasp.

"I'm going to kill you for this! I have to! You never loved me!" Gareth screamed over and over, as Beth worked on trying to wriggle free.

"Let me go! Let me go, and I'll help you! I can help you, I'm a doctor!" Beth exclaimed.

The more Gareth slammed her head into the floor, the more she felt herself lose consciousness. She didn't want to die, especially over something so incredibly trivial, but she felt that this could be the end.

Until she heard the doorknob jiggle, and then she heard the unmistakable gait of Daryl's feet.

"Get up." Daryl growled. Gareth stood up, a smirk on his face.

"You caught me, huh?" Gareth asked condescendingly, "I should kill you. Then I could just have Beth to myself."

"What the hell's goin' on in here, Beth?" Daryl asked, turning his attention toward Beth. She noticed his hand was reaching toward his side, and she hoped that he was reaching for something to stop Gareth with.

"He's trying to kill me!" Beth screamed. Daryl's eyes shifted toward Gareth, who was now making his way toward Daryl. Gareth tried to rush Daryl and knock him to the floor, but Daryl was faster, and had Gareth on the ground in just a few seconds. Daryl put a knee into Gareth's back as Gareth wrestled him, and Daryl instructed Beth to call police.

Gareth reached for a piece of broken class in the floor from the coffee table, lunging at Daryl. Beth held Jake tightly and screamed, begging the 911 dispatchers to send police quickly. Daryl slammed Gareth into the door, nearly knocking it off it its hinges. Gareth in turn managed to slice Daryl's cheek with the shard of broken glass, but Daryl grabbed Gareth's head, slamming him into the door frame, knocking him semi-unconscious.

While Beth was watching the scuffle take place, she grew worried that Gareth in his state would kill her and Daryl both. However, after seeing Daryl slam Gareth's head into the door frame, and hearing the loud "thunk", she was relieved when she realized Daryl had subdued her attacker, and she was even more relieved when police arrived just minutes later. However, she wasn't happy that the responding officers were Tara Chambler, a friend of Glenn and Maggie's, and a brand new rookie, Noah Jones.

"Oh my God, Beth." Tara said, noticing her battered face, "Was this..."

"Yeah, the first time. He started drinking and didn't stop. His attitude didn't change till I tried to get him home. To his home." Beth replied as EMT's arrived and began tending to her.

"If Daryl wasn't here, I'd be dead."Beth added.

"Glad Daryl was here, ma'am, really. He didn't tell you he's done this before, has he?" Noah asked. Beth sat up straight.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"Gareth has some issues with alcohol. He had a similar throw down with another girlfriend about seven months ago. Had to go to AA meetings after that." Tara explained.

"He didn't tell me that at all." Beth replied.

"He didn't tell you that he had schizophrenia either, did he?" Tara asked, "Because he's had episodes of paranoia for a while now. His mother's called on more than one occasion because he's out of control."

"How come he didn't tell me?" Beth asked.

"I didn't know, maybe he thought he could hide it. Is your dog okay?" Tara asked. The dog whined in Beth's arms. He was still only fourteen weeks old—not a large dog yet, and Beth was more concerned for the dog than her own safety.

"Can you call daddy? Ask him to come look at Jake?" Beth asked. Tara nodded, and made the call to Hershel. Beth shook as EMT's told her they wanted to bring her to the emergency room for tests as well.

"Ma'am, we think you've got a fractured wrist. And a concussion. We need to see if you're okay." The first paramedic said.

"I can't leave my dog." Beth whimpered.

"Me and Maggie will stay with him, Beth. You go on to the emergency room. I just called Maggie too, she and your dad are on their way." Tara replied.

"I'll go with 'er, Chambler. Can't let 'er go by 'erself." Daryl said.

"Alright. But you know we're gonna need a statement, Dixon." Tara reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. But she's all beat up. I need to go with 'er." Daryl said. Tara nodded, and Daryl helped Beth into the ambulance. They headed to Atlanta Regional Medical Center, and Beth was taken into one of the emergency exam rooms.

The first nurse came in, and Beth was already frustrated.

"Listen, it's superficial head wounds, maybe a concussion. I'm showing all the symptoms, and you need to check that. I may have fractured my wrist. That'll need an x-ray." Beth explained. The nurse pursed her lips, placing a hand on her hip.

"And just how would you know this?" The nurse asked.

"I'm a doctor." Beth replied.

"Oh, really?" The nurse asked rather condescendingly.

"I graduated from Emory University School of Medicine in May. I'm a pathologist. Now, are you gonna get a doctor in here, or am I doin' that by myself?" Beth snapped. The nurse looked genuinely surprised, too, when Beth began to take her own blood pressure.

"You can't do that." The nurse said.

"I have hospital privileges." Beth replied. Soon the doctor, Doctor Edwards, came in, and began to look over her chart.

"Well, Dr. Greene, seems like you've had a rough night. Can you tell me what happened?" He asked, examining her face and eyes.

"I went out to dinner with my boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend. He started to drink. Then we went to a club downtown. He started drinking even more, and it bothered me, so I tried to get 'im back to his place. All of a sudden his mood changed, he ordered us back to my apartment, an' then he tried to kill me." Beth explained, giving the doctor an abridged version of the events.

"Well, Dr. Greene, you're certainly lucky. We'll put that wrist in a cast, but other than that, you're okay. Just a minor concussion, and we'll have to stitch that head wound." Dr. Edwards explained, "You're really, really lucky. I'll be back in a few."

Beth nodded as the doctor left, and Daryl sat quietly in the corner chair. Beth picked at her nails before looking up at the detective, sighing heavily.

"Thank you, Daryl. For savin' me." Beth said. Daryl looked up, thoroughly surprised.

"Wasn't nothin'. Just right place at the right time." Daryl responded.

"It was. He was gonna kill me, Daryl. I've never been so afraid in my life." Beth told him.

"Well, now at least you won't be bringin' 'im 'round there anymore." Daryl joked. Beth chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. No more datin' for me!" Beth declared emphatically, waving her hands in the air.

"C'mon now, can't be like that all the time. You'll find someone someday." Daryl told her.

"Daryl, look at my track record. Ol' deputy Shane Walsh, who is, as I've said, a great big 'ol bag of dicks, and then there's professor Gareth, who is the mayor of crazy town." Beth said. Daryl laughed, nodding.

"Guess you're right. But we ain't all bad." Daryl replied reassuringly.

"When I was in high school, I dated a guy named Jimmy. He worked on the farm, an' then I found out the only reason he was datin' me was 'cause he had a crush on my sister, Maggie. Then my freshman year of college, I dated a guy named Zach. And Zach was pretty much perfect." Beth explained.

"Then why ain't ya with 'im?" Daryl asked.

Beth sighed, her breath hitching. "He was leavin' my house one Friday night, an' a drunk in a Chevy just happened to be drivin' the same road as him. Him him nearly head on. Wrapped 'is Dodge Charger 'round a tree. Zach's mama called me that night, so upset. I didn't even get to say goodbye, he was already gone. But that's okay, I hate goodbyes anyway." Beth shrugged. Daryl stared at her for a moment.

"How long ago was that?" Daryl asked.

"Let's see, I was seventeen, so that was six years ago. I try to imagine the person he'd be today. Wonder if he'd be a teacher or an' engineer or somethin' like that. He always said he wanted to be a mechanic. Funny how life works out, right?" Beth asked.

"You're tellin' me. Andrea, when she shot me, it was actually on accident. We were huntin', an' she didn't see me. She felt terrible 'bout it." Daryl explained, "I know we didn't work it out, but I still hate that she's gone."

"Do you miss her?" Beth asked.

"I don't miss bein' with 'er. I just hate that she went out like that." Daryl replied. Beth didn't say anything; for once, she didn't need to.

"Well, thanks, anyway, Daryl. I really am glad you were there. Maybe you livin' with me for the time bein' isn't so bad after all." Beth said, smirking.

"'S no problem, doc. Glad I could help." Daryl told her, winking back. Soon, the doctor returned, and had Beth's head stitched up in no time. They put Beth's wrist in a cast, which she insisted needed to be green. Hershel and Maggie came and picked them up, taking them back to the apartment. Beth was relieved to know that Jake would be just fine, just a little sore for a few days. Hershel also told Beth that Jake would probably weigh more than she did when he was fully grown, which would work out in her favor. Again, it was another late night for Beth and Daryl, who didn't get home until 2:30. Lucky for Beth, it was still only Sunday, which meant she could still sleep in. She decided she'd probably take Monday, too, because of her wrist, and hoped that she would heal quickly. Hershel and Maggie left shortly after 3:00, heading to Maggie and Glenn's condo for some sleep. Beth felt terrible that they'd both waited up for her, but she was grateful for them nonetheless. She noticed that Hershel and Maggie had cleaned the apartment, getting rid of the broken coffee table and trying to repair some of the damage. Beth smiled, walking to the fridge and grabbing herself and Daryl a beer.

"Thanks, doc." Daryl said, opening the bottle and taking a sip.

"You don't have to call me 'doc', ya know. I have a name." Beth replied, teasingly.

"I know. I just think 'doc Greene' suits you." Daryl replied. Beth blushed, darting her eyes toward the floor.

"Doc Greene sounds like my daddy." Beth mused, "But I don't mind it."

"Well, Beth, I'm headed to bed. My own bed this time. You should turn in, too." Daryl suggested.

"Night, Daryl. I'll be to bed a little later." Beth replied. Daryl walked down the hall, Beth watching as his bedroom door closed. Jake followed behind him, and wormed his way into the bedroom. Beth heard Daryl say something similar to 'hell no', but she knew that the dog had won him over. Beth herself walked to her room, changing into her Georgia Tech t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. She laid in bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, her wrist throbbing. Her breath hitched as her eyes began to close, and then, she war jarred awake by the vision of an angry Gareth under her eyelids. It scared her, if she were being honest, and before she knew what she was doing, she was creeping into Daryl's bedroom, sitting at the foot of his bed.

"Daryl. Daryl please wake up." Beth whispered. Daryl sat straight up, staring at her, his eyes wild.

"Whatcha want? What's the matter?" He asked frantically.

"I can't sleep. I'm still freaked out. Can I please just sleep in here tonight?" Beth begged. Daryl ran a hand through his messy hair, and sighed heavily. He pulled the covers back, grunting.

"Come on, Greene. Get in. Just don't wiggle around." Daryl said. Beth nodded, rolling over to face Daryl. Before she knew it, Daryl was already asleep, and she was beginning to drift herself. She began to close her eyes, and then was startled at Daryl, who had thrown an arm around her waist. Strangely enough, she didn't mind, she rather enjoyed it. It made the rest come easier for her.

And she knew that she was starting to warm to him, and that she should be concerned, but now she was too tired, and Daryl made her feel so safe, and for her, that was enough for now.


	8. Chapter 8

**The reviews! You guys are awesome! You guys are wonderful and I'm so thankful for all of you. Thank you for your support! It means a lot! Also, if you have any suggestion for how to continue Joe, let me know. I know he was a bad guy, but I kind of like the weird relationship he's got with Beth. Anyway, thanks, guys!**

**-A**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eight:<p>

Beth felt sore.

And she couldn't remember the last time that she had been that angry. Both at herself, for not seeing the signs, and at Gareth, for lying to her. She was angry because she could have prevented the trouble. She was angry because Gareth had willingly hid things from her. She was angry that she hadn't seen it coming.

The morgue had not been conducive to her healing. Nor had it been helpful for her sanity.

And, the investigation of Brian Heriot was becoming tricky.

And that's how Beth justified driving her black mustang out of the city, down the highway, and turning into the Rattlesnake Saloon at 8:00 p.m. She needed a drink, and quite frankly, she figured that Joe Kober might be a little more understanding than any bartender. So, she pulled into the gravel parking lot, turning off the engine and walked inside the bar. It was more crowded than the last time she'd been there, but it was also much earlier in the night. She walked toward the bar, and immediately, Joe recognized her, a smile spreading across his features.

"Doctor Greene! Back so soon?" He mused.

"Yep, Joe. Back again." Beth replied.

"Need more information? Find what you were lookin' for? Or more than ya bargained for?" Joe asked, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pouring a shot for Beth.

"Found Mags and her husband. She was a little beat up, but 'ol Glenn just got out of the hospital. Actually, I was just here to drink." Beth explained. Joe stopped drying glasses and looked at Beth's face, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Gee, if I didn't know any better, Miss Beth, I'd say you were in a bar fight." He said.

"I was, kinda." Beth muttered, taking a shot of Fireball and ordering a Pabst Blue Ribbon.

"D'ya at least win?" Joe asked.

"Kinda. It was actually my ex-boyfriend. Jackass started drinkin', mixed with his crazy meds and he went psycho and tried to kill me, and that's the abridged version." Beth explained. Joe remained silent for a moment.

"He break your wrist?" He asked.

"Yep. See this?" Beth asked, pointing to her forehead, right above her right eyebrow, "Ten stitches. Smacked my head right into the glass coffee table. Kicked my puppy around. He was tryin' to kill me, told me so even!" Beth exclaimed.

"What happened? Tell me you shot his ass." Joe said.

"Not quite, Joe. Daryl actually just happened to walk in at the right him. Psycho sliced Daryl's face open, too. But Daryl beat him enough that he let me go." Beth told him.

"Figures. Daryl never did take to men puttin' their hands on the ladies. Merle didn't either. Of course, I don't. No matter how pissed I may get at the ol' lady, I've never put my hands on 'er, not once." Joe said.

"I just didn't see it comin', ya know?" Beth said, finishing her beer and ordering another.

"Ya never do, darlin'. Daryl may be a cop, but he's alright by me." Joe said.

"Did you know Daryl before he was a cop?" Beth asked, curious.

Joe smiled devilishly. "Yes ma'am, I did. He ran around with my crew quite often, followin' Merle around wherever he went. Of course, Daryl was just a kid then." He explained.

"I could kinda see that, ya know, between you an' me." Beth giggled. Joe laughed with her.

"Yeah, but he was rather tame even for the likes of a bunch of bikers. Merle was always the one in trouble, not Daryl." Joe said.

"Merle seems so nice, though." Beth replied.

"Oh, now he is. When meth was his lady, he would fight anyone for lookin' at 'im wrong." Joe told her. Beth nodded solemnly.

"Well, I like detective Daryl. I know you're not a fan, but Daryl's looked out for me." Beth said matter-of-factly.

"Who wouldn't, little miss? You're a walkin' ray of sunshine, 'cept when you're waving firearms in faces of people who might be a problem." Joe teased, winking.

"Sorry 'bout that." Beth apologized sheepishly.

"Don't. I'm gonna tell you something you need to know. Little girls like you? People will always think you're weak, that ya can't take care of yourself. Don't ever apologize for not takin' shit from anyone. You be bitchy if you need to. It'll keep you alive." Joe said.

"My whole life, I've always been the smallest, the youngest, the weakest. I was always Maggie or Shawn or Lori's sister, I was the tiniest Greene. People still don't take me seriously. Gareth didn't. I'm still mad, Joe. I'm mad at myself for not seein' the signs, I'm mad Daryl had to save me, I'm mad that Gareth did that to me. And I'm mad that no one is doin' anythin' about what he did! They just let 'im go, like it was no big deal!" Beth exclaimed angrily.

"They let him go? Are you shittin' me?" Joe asked in disbelief.

"No, I'm not. Because he's the mayor of crazy town, they let him walk out like it was nothing." Beth huffed.

"No, no, no. See, that's where our justice system seems to fail us. I know I'm not the most saintly man in this here parts, but there are men worse than me. Hell, a lot of 'em work for me, and no one ever gets off easy. But men like that guy you were seein'...They get off easy." Joe nearly growled.

"He lied to me, Joe. He hid his schizophrenia from me. He lied from the beginning. If I'd known, I might've seen it coming." Beth said. Joe's jaw tensed.

"He lied, huh?" He asked. Beth nodded.

"That's not okay. See, I have a code, keeps things with my boys from goin' Darwin every few hours. And part of that code is you always tell the truth. Always." Joe said.

"I was honest about everything with that guy, Joe. Told 'im 'bout the time I tried to off myself, which I'm not proud of, told 'im I wasn't plannin' on getting serious right away. Told him what I was afraid of, what I hated, what I liked, my faults, all of it. He told me he didn't have anythin' to hide." Beth huffed.

"Darlin', people with nothin' to hide usually don't feel the need to say so." Joe said, grinning.

"Guess you're right." Beth shrugged.

"I still find it a little comical that you're in here tellin' your problems to a convicted felon." Joe said.

"I don't trust the bars in Atlanta. For some reason, knowing you're kind of a scoundrel makes me trust you a little." Beth told him.

"Scoundrel would be right, but I do appreciate the business all the same, ma'am." Joe teased.

Beth laughed, "Well, what can I say? You're a decent bartender."

"Well, just outta curiosity, what's this man's name? What's he do for a livin'?" Joe asked.

"Dr. Gareth Turner is a professor at Georgia State. They allow this guy to teach and he's a few cans short of a six pack." Beth said.

"Huh. That's interesting. There was another Dr. Turner in here not long ago, a man named Alex. Think he's a morgue guy. And he was in here with Shumpert and Crowley. Bout two weeks ago." Joe said absentmindedly.

"Alex? Alex Turner? I work with him, Joe!" Beth exclaimed.

"Oh, you do?" Joe asked.

"Yeah. That's Gareth's brother. He's always been nice to me." Beth said, stunned.

"He works for Brian Heriot, some kind of research that Heriot's pharmaceutical company, apparently." Joe said flatly. Beth's eyes grew wide, her heart thumped in her chest.

"Joe, I don't have time to explain." Beth said, standing up, and dropping a $20 on the bar, "But there is something very important that I have to tell Daryl. I appreciate the drinks, and the conversation. Enjoy your evening."

"So Alex is connected to Brian Heriot the serial killer, huh? Just connecting that now?" Joe asked.

Beth stopped, turning around, her eyebrows knitting together. "Yeah. I'm not even gonna ask, but yeah." She said.

Joe nodded toward her as she waved, running out the door and into her mustang. The entire way back to Atlanta, she was going nearly 95 miles an hour, the V8 engine roaring as she tore into her parking spot in front of her apartment. She ran up the stairs as fast as she could, throwing open the door to her apartment. Jake and Daryl looked up from the couch, Daryl jumping to his feet.

"Beth?! What the hell's goin' on?" He asked frantically.

"Daryl! Daryl! I have to tell you something! Right now!" Beth huffed, putting the wrist in a cast to her forehead. Daryl tilted his head slightly, walking toward her.

"What's the matter, Greene?" He asked softly, afraid something was very wrong.

"I was at the Rattlesnake Saloon tonight and—" Beth began.

"—You went to the Rattlesnake Saloon?! Why the hell were you at the Rattlesnake Saloon?!" Daryl asked angrily.

"Daryl, let me finish!" Beth hissed, "Anyway, Joe mentioned that this guy—a Dr. Turner who worked with the morgue—was in the bar a few weeks ago with Shrumpert and Crowley. He WORKS for Heriot, Daryl! Alex—Gareth's brother—he works Brian Heriot. He's a consult, does research for the pharmaceutical company on the sly. He's got the experience—a BS in chemistry and biology. He was a genius in medical school. Daryl—I think—I think he's Brian's inside guy." Beth finished, leaning forward. Daryl lifted his eyebrows in obvious surprise.

"You serious?" Daryl asked, whispering.

"Yeah." Beth replied. Daryl bit his lip, nodding. He reached for his cell phone on the end table, and dialed Rick's number. He demanded Rick head over right away, before hanging up. He then dialed Morgan's number, and told him the same thing. The two arrived at nearly the same time, coming in with curious looks on their faces.

"Daryl. You said this was important?" Rick asked.

"It'd better be, 'cause I just left my son at home by himself. "Morgan said.

"Yeah, it's important. Beth, tell 'em what you just heard while you were out carousin' with felons." Daryl said, motioning for her to speak.

"Okay, so tonight I was at the Rattlesnake Saloon..." Beth began, again.

"What the hell were you doin' over there, girl?" Morgan asked.

"Would ya shut up an' lemme finish?"Beth hissed. Morgan sat back, apologetic, and nodded.

"Okay, so anyway, I was there, talkin' to Joe about Gareth, an' he mentioned Alex. He mentioned a 'Dr. Turner' that was workin' for Brian an' he was also workin' in the morgue. I asked 'im, an' it's Gareth's brother. Alex. I can't be sure, but I think he's Brian Heriot's inside guy. He could just not know what's goin' on, or he could be tamperin' evidence. He could be screwin' around. I just don't know!" Beth exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

Rick bit his lip, sighing heavily. "I'm callin' in an some other detectives. This isn't necessarily homicide's department." Rick said flatly.

"Who you gonna call, Rick?" Daryl asked.

"Ghostbusters, Daryl." Rick said sarcastically, Daryl rolling his eyes, "You know who it's probably gonna be." Rick said.

"If it's Douglass, we're cool. Richey though, I'll be pissed." Daryl replied.

An hour later, Detective Douglass and Detective Richey showed up. Richey, with his cowboy hat and handlebar mustache, greeted Beth with an eager smile, looking her up and down.

"Well, hello, ma'am." Detective Richey said, grinning.

"Cut the shit, Axel, she ain't interested." Daryl hissed.

"Right. So, what we got here?" Axel asked sheepishly.

"Seems we got a pathology resident with ties to our suspect in the Heriot campaign killings." Rick explained, "Dr. Greene here found out about it."

Detective Douglass, who Axel referred to as "T Dog", extended his hand toward Beth, and she shook it.

"So ma'am, can you tell us what you know?" T Dog asked. Beth sighed heavily, before beginning.

"Well, see, I just recently ended a relationship with a schizophrenic college professor named Dr. Gareth Turner, on account of he tried to kill me. Now, I was frustrated an' drove over to the Rattlesnake Saloon..."

"You went over to the Rattlesnake Saloon?!" Axel interrupted.

"Nobody talk until I'm done!" Beth hissed, continuing, "Alright. Anyway, I mentioned my frustration to Joe Kober, who told me offhandedly that a Dr. Turner who worked in the morgue came in and was talkin' to two guys named Shrumpert and Crowley who work for Brian Heriot. Apparently, accordin' to Joe, Alex works for Brian Heriot on the sly, does research for his pharmaceutical company. He's got the qualifications—a BS in chemistry and biology, graduated top of his class from Emory and Emory School of Medicine. He's a genius. But, I think he might just be Heriot's inside guy."

T Dog bit his lip nervously. "You think we need to call our morgue guys?" He asked.

"I'd say so. Dr. Peletier and Dr. Jenner might wanna be privy to that information, so would Dr. Mamet." Axel said.

"Well, then, we need to call them." Rick said, leaving no room in his voice for question.

"Then call 'em." Daryl repeated.

"Alright. Let me call Carol, ask 'em all to get over here." Beth grumbled, reaching for her cell phone.

* * *

><p>To say that Carol, Dr. Jenner, Dr. Mamet, and Dr. Porter were surprised would be an understatement. They all agreed that they needed to keep an eye on Dr. Alex Turner, who was now suspected of tampering with evidence, which could earn him a hefty stint in prison if he was discovered to actually be doing. Beth was overwhelmed by it all, and if she were being perfectly honest, just wanted these people out of her damn apartment. Finally, after deciding that Carol, Beth, and the other doctors would feed information to detectives as they saw fit, Rick, Morgan, T Dog, and Axel left. Of course, Axel tried to get Beth's phone number, to which Daryl promptly told him to leave before he threw his ass out. Beth was quite relieved, though exhausted, when everyone finally left just before midnight. Beth sat down with Jake, who was growing quite rapidly, next to her on the couch, leaning her head back and sighing heavily.<p>

Then, she felt something cold press against her upper arm, and her eyes sprung open.

"Here. Figured you could use it." Daryl mumbled, offering her a can of her favorite soda—Mountain Dew. She'd acquired an addiction to the soda in medical school, and now she went throw cans of the unhealthy green liquid.

"Thanks." Beth sighed, taking a big gulp. "It's not that I don't enjoy being the center of police investigations, it's just that I really hate people in my apartment. And they're always here! I don't know why they like me that much, I'm not even that appealing."

"That ain't true." Daryl offered, and Beth looked up, "You're the sassiest smart ass I know."

Beth stuck her tongue out. "Yeah, you're not so bad yourself. At least you managed to peel that creeper Axel and his handlebar mustache of horror off of me. He's worse than Dr. Porter, and Dr. Porter grabbed my ass."

"Axel's the creepiest sonbitch I ever met." Daryl said seriously, "Michonne's slapped the livin' shit out of 'im more than once."

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Beth said, laughing loudly, "But then again, it doesn't surprise me."

"It's true. She used to be in the gang unit. But she transferred over to SVU a few years ago after 'er son died. Axel was SVU then. They transferred 'im right quick after she complained." Daryl explained. Beth's eyes softened.

"Her son died? Michonne had a kid?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, little boy. Name was Andre." Daryl replied quietly.

"What happened to him?" Beth asked, biting her lip.

"Michonne's boyfriend, name was Mike I think, he was on drugs. Didn't let nobody see it, but one day Michonne was at work and he got high, Andre drowned in the bathtub. Mike overdosed. 'Bout killed her. She was gone from work for two months I reckon." Daryl told her.

"That's...Terrible." was all Beth could say.

"Yeah, yeah it is." Daryl replied.

"How long ago was it?" Beth asked.

"'Bout three years ago now. I dunno. I worked the gang unit a little while 'fore I transferred homicide." Daryl said.

"Why'd you go homicide? Seems depressing." Beth said propping her feet up on the end of the couch.

"Rick. We were partners. After all that shit went down with Lori—I couldn't jus' leave 'im by himself." Daryl said, stretching out in the chair.

"Lori was like a sister to me. She'd lived with us my whole life. When she died, I guess a little piece of me died with 'er." Beth admitted.

"Beth, why'd you go to Joe's bar tonight?" Daryl asked, not accusatory or with an underlying tone, just genuine curiosity.

"Because I'm angry, Daryl. And Joe, well, he didn't judge me. He didn't look at me like 'oh, poor little Beth Greene'. He saw me for who I was, not Maggie or Shawn's baby sister, not Doctor Greene. He saw me as the chick that wasn't afraid to stand up to him. That's why I went." Beth admitted. Daryl stared at her for a moment, chewing the skin around his left thumb.

"Alright." He replied, nodding his head.

"You don't know what it's like to always be the younger, weaker sibling. The one always taggin' along. The weak girl who can't take care of herself. I feel so stupid that I couldn't see the signs, Daryl! I should've known! I'm a damn doctor!" Beth exclaimed, her voice cracking ever-so-slightly. Tears began to sting her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wouldn't cry. She didn't want to, at least.

"I was always taggin' 'round Merle an' 'is buddies. That's how I knew Joe. Merle was a druggie, but he was my brother, so I just followed 'im 'round wherever he went. Truth was, 'fore I went to college, I was just some redneck asshole, with an even bigger asshole for a brother. I was nobody, nothin'. I coulda wound up bein' one of those degenerates in prison just as easy as I did a cop." Daryl said, bowing his head.

"That's not true, Daryl. You're _somebody. _You saved my life. Some redneck asshole would never do that. You're a great man, Daryl Dixon. You're a good brother, and a good friend. And you could've let Gareth beat me to death, but you didn't." Beth said matter-of-factly.

"One time, me an' Andrea, right before we broke up, we were fightin' real bad. 'Cause toward the end, that's what we always did, we fought. An' I remember her eyes getting real big, an' she looked at me an' said 'You're just a piece of white trash just like the rest of your family'. An' I'd never admit it to 'er, but right then I knew I didn't wanna be with 'er any more. Broke up a few days later." Daryl told her.

"Shane an' I fought a lot, too. He was always wantin' more from me than I was willin' to give 'im. He just wanted sex—that's what every conversation led to. An' I halfway considered it, but I decided I wouldn't, 'cause I wanted 'im to love me for me. An' now that I think about it, I think the only person outside my family that ever cared 'bout me for me was Zach, an' he isn't here anymore. Shane told me once, 'you ain't got the balls to be a doctor. You ain't strong enough to keep your head together'. An' that hurt, 'cause all I ever wanted to do was go to medical school." Beth said, tears filling her eyes and spilling over this time. She didn't care, she'd let Daryl see her like this.

"You don't ever let anyone try to tell you that you ain't smart, Greene. You're the smartest person I know." Daryl said, conviction in his voice.

"What made you go to college and be a cop?" Beth asked.

"I was tired of bein' that redneck asshole. I grew up in Orchard Hill Georgia. Ain't nothin' to write home 'bout. Everyone in that town knew me an' my whole family as the white trash in the run down house on the edge of town that wasn't worth a dime." Daryl said sheepishly.

"You're from Orchard Hill?" Beth asked. Daryl nodded.

"I'm from East Griffin!" Beth exclaimed. They were both from King County. It was a small world after all.

"No shit, doc. Wait...Are you related to the Greenes who run Greene Farms?" Daryl asked.

"That'd be my daddy. He's also the vet in town." Beth replied.

"I've been out to your farm once, with Rick. It's been years though." Daryl said, his face lighting up. Beth had to admit that she thought he looked cute like that.

"Truth is, Rick kinda pushed me into bein' a cop. I started out as a young rookie right out of the academy, goin' to school at night over at Georgia State. They paid for it, actually. I got a double major. Took me four and a half years, but I graduated. I was 23." Daryl said, a proud gleam in his eye. Beth couldn't help but smile.

"What's your degree in?" Beth asked.

"I got a double major; sociology an' neuroscience. Jus' finished my masters degree 'bout a year ago." Daryl added.

"Are you serious? That is awesome! Holdin' a full time job? Workin' like that? That's tough." Beth said, smiling widely. Daryl smiled back, nodding.

"Ain't nothin'." Daryl mumbled.

"But it is. Why sociology? Why neuroscience?" Beth asked, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder.

"Wanted to know how criminals think. How murderers think. Always had my sights on homicide." Daryl replied.

"That's really cool, Daryl. Seriously. You gonna get your doctorate?" Beth asked, her eyes bright.

"Thought about it." Daryl replied, "But what'd I write on? What'd I do? Teach college for a bunch o' kids that don't care?"

"Good point." Beth laughed, You're not half bad, Daryl Dixon."

"Neither are you, Beth Greene." Daryl replied.

"That's the first time you called me by my first name." Beth said, matter-of-factly.

"It ain't a terrible name. Figured if we're gonna be on friendly terms I might as well start usin' it." Daryl mumbled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Friendly? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were sweet on me." Beth teased.

"Psh—you wish." Daryl smirked. Beth laughed again—this time harder. Something about Daryl made her feel much safer than she had in a long time. She couldn't help but notice how his eyes lit up when he actually smiled. Beth felt her eyes droop as she yawned—then she stood up, stretching out.

"Well, Daryl, I'm gonna head to bed." Beth said, "But I appreciate the talk. Thanks for everything. I 'preciate it. G'night."

"Night, Beth." Daryl offered as Beth trailed down the hall, Jake following behind her. Though she'd swore she wouldn't let that dog on her bed (because he'd be reaching 140 pounds full grown), she wouldn't say no to his big, brown eyes. She crawled into her bed, feeling the heaviness in her eyelids, as she sank under the covers. It was refreshing, to feel the soft warmth of the bed. Jake snuggled around her feet, groaning slightly.

Beth wasn't quite sure how, but her talk with Daryl, as well as with Joe, made her feel better. Daryl, somehow, understood her, and she understood him. Maybe they could be some kind of awesome-murder solving team? She didn't know. Right now, all she was focused on was getting some sleep, and putting her troubles of the past few days behind her. Beth just wanted one night of peaceful sleep, free of Gareth, or someone getting kidnapped, or some kind of murder that needed to be dealt with.

Beth was happy, though. Because for the first time in a long time, someone saw her as Beth Greene. And oddly enough, that person was the last person she ever expected.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to all my friends on tumblr, and all my lovely followers on here for the wonderful reviews! Your positivity is overwhelming! Love you all!  
><strong>

**-Mandy**

* * *

><p>Chapter Nine:<p>

Over the course of interning in crime labs and morgues, Beth Greene had soon developed a talent for determining cause of death, and for pointing out the little things.

Really, it was more of an art form for her; like a well-written symphony just waiting for the right musician to play it out. She viewed each death and each crime scene as a musical masterpiece; and it was her job to look at the composition, the technique, the timing. She loved looking at things like that, even though Maggie and Rick often called it creepy.

And Beth being Beth, didn't care. And Atlanta PD, bless their hearts, just didn't seem to have enough funding for a lot of forensic scientists. That's why Rick and his higher ups asked her to be a "part time" employee of sorts, working not only in the morgue, but also in blood splatter analysis.

And Beth, being Beth, couldn't resist.

It helped that she was usually on the crime scene anyway. She was a resident, a fellow of sorts in the morgue, but she'd pretty much been offered a job there by Dr. Jenner and Dr. Peletier anyway. Beth loved painting the picture of a beautifully constructed crime scene, violent deaths had become her favorite since she started working at the morgue in May.

And now, it was the beginning of September, and Beth was becoming sort of a pro at it.

She enjoyed working for Atlanta PD, and for the Fulton County Medical Examiner. It seemed no one but her (and a few select others) were even qualified to do forensics for the police department in the first place. Unfortunately, Dr. Porter was one of those, and Beth was usually working very closely with him. Murder seemed to pick up in the heat of the summer, and it didn't slow down as the air began to cool, either. In fact, if Beth were being honest, murders were on the rise in Atlanta, which caused her parents to worry—a lot. Really, the only person who wasn't worried was Beth.

Because, if murder didn't happen, she'd be out of a job.

And unfortunately for her, Beth's apartment was still a police rendezvous point. The Heriot campaign deaths had been lulled as of late, but that didn't stop the amount of insane crimes that had been taking place.

That's why Beth was flashing her "forensics" badge, and walking into the crime scene of a headless corpse. _Wow, this is something. _Beth said, noticing the remarkably clean cut.

"Yeah, we found the victim this morning. Not sure about the time of death. Looks to be in his mid 30's." One cop said.

"This one's pretty open-and-shut, though. I mean, you're not gonna survive havin' a head chopped off." A cop named Leon said.

"That's not what killed him." Beth said, putting on her gloves. Carol and Dr. Porter followed behind her, ready to bag up the body. Beth grabbed the police issued Nikon camera, and began to take photos.

"What's special 'bout this one?" Rick asked.

"Well, for one, he was dumped here. If he'd been decapitated here, there'd be a lot more blood. But," Beth said, taking another picture, "It seems to me that there's some cell crystallization going on here."

Beth felt the body's skin. It was frigid, like he'd been stuck in a freezer. "I think our victim was frozen. Makes cuttin' him up a lot easier."

"Look at the strangulation marks on his neck." Carol said, "Seems like this guy was strangled before they stuffed him in the freezer."

"It had to be bigger than just a freezer. It had to be something industrial." Beth said, "Otherwise he would've been cut up into pieces parts."

"Maybe, and this is just a shot in the dark here, maybe whoever killed him had access to liquid nitrogen?" Dr. Porter asked. Beth and Carol both looked up at him, as he shrugged.

"Liquid nitrogen?" Beth asked.

"Yeah. This person—whoever killed him—was smart enough to get the body to a freezing temperature, so that the blood would clot and not bleed out. Maybe they were smart enough to use liquid nitrogen." Eugene explained. Beth had to admit, that was very plausible.

"So, our killer could be a chemist or something. Someone who was smart enough to cover this up." Beth said.

"And someone who was smart enough not to leave prints." Bob Stookey said. He'd also joined the forensics team as a forensic technician, and he was a fingerprint analyst.

"No prints? At all?" Carol asked. Bob shook his head.

"None. Whoever killed this guy knew how to not leave a trace." Bob said. Beth noted that the decapitation occurred somewhere else, there wasn't a lot of blood to go off of.

"And what's creepier? This guy doesn't have any fingerprints himself." Carol said, inspecting the body. They bagged it up and took him to the morgue ready to begin an autopsy first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, they began an autopsy on someone that'd been brought in the day before; someone they'd luckily been able to identify.

"His name is Randall Culver. Age twenty-seven." Carol said, flipping through his chart.

"Holy hell, this dude when to school with Maggie, my sister. He was always really, really weird." Beth said, examining his body.

"Well, it looks like someone else thought that, too. His neck is broken along with the strangulation." Carol said.

"Yeah, I noticed that." Beth said, "We have any prints?"

"Yes, actually. He worked at that club, Terminus, as a bartender. I'm gonna need you to go with Daryl, see if you can find out any information. Might help us determine how his neck was broken." Carol explained.

"When?" Beth asked sheepishly.

"Tonight, if possible. The club doesn't open until 8:00 anyway." Carol explained.

"How would you know?" Beth teased.

"I know my way around Atlanta better than you think." Carol said, winking. "Now, you go pretty up. You and your date need to blend in. And for the love of God, make sure he looks presentable."

"You got it." Beth said, saluting. They were closing up shop for the day, and Carol—who was now visibly pregnant—looked exhausted from what Beth could tell.

"Hey, you alright?" Beth asked, walking out with Carol.

"Yeah, this kid is just giving me a run for my money." Carol said, chuckling, "Can't wait till I can give her that eviction notice."

"Another girl? Is Merle feelin' the pressure yet?" Beth asked, giggling.

"Nope. He's over the moon. But this is the last one. I'm thirty-seven, I'm too old for this!" Carol exclaimed.

"You be careful, Carol. I'll see you tomorrow." Beth said, waving. She drove home, getting ready to tell Daryl that they needed to go to Terminus tonight, when her phone rang, the chorus of "Highway to Hell" playing loudly. Beth glanced at the caller ID; it was Daryl.

"Dr. Greene. What can I do ya for, detective?" Beth asked.

"Psh doc, you don't have to pay me, you can do me for free." Daryl's voice teased.

"Daryl, seriously. What's up? You talk to Carol?" Beth asked, rolling her eyes as Daryl's incessant teasing, which he'd been doing a lot of lately.

"I did, actually. So you might wanna go put your face on an' get your hair big. We goin' to the club." Daryl said, his voice in a low, teasing tone.

"Don't sound creepy. We'll show up around 9:00, don't wanna be the first ones at the door." Beth said, "Wanna go grab dinner before?"

"Miss Greene, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were tryin' to seduce me." Daryl jested, a light tone still in his voice.

"If I were tryin' to seduce you, I wouldn't be yellin' at you to put pants on in my livin' room." Beth replied, her voice deadpan.

Daryl sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll go to dinner with ya, doc. Ya don't have to hound me."

"Oh hush. I'm on my way home now." Beth said.

"Good. Just so ya know...The dog attacked a purse o' yours." Daryl said. Beth's eyes grew wide.

"What's the purse look like?" Beth asked frantically.

"Uh, the label says 'Coach'." Daryl replied. Beth just sighed, closing her eyes.

"Well, that's $250 I'm not getting back. I'm almost home. I'll see ya soon." Beth said.

"Aight doc. See ya." Daryl said, hanging up the phone. Beth felt a little twinge of dread, knowing she would return home to find a destroyed designer handbag. Expensive purses were her one little vice; normally she didn't wear much makeup or expensive clothing. But, Lori had introduced her to the joys of nice purses when Beth was thirteen, and since then, Beth always bought a designer purse for herself when she accomplished something big; like graduating medical school, or getting a good score on the MCAT. But, that now six-month old dog (who was eighty pounds) was chewing everything. And he only seemed to prefer the expensive stuff. Beth dreaded seeing the damage as she walked into her apartment, slowly closing the door behind her.

"Hey there, Greene." Daryl greeted, Jake trailing along behind him.

"Hey, Dixon, and Wreck-It Ralph." Beth said, addressing Daryl and Jake.

"How were the dead people?" Daryl asked, offering Beth a Mountain Dew as she sat down at the kitchen table. Beth took it, sighing.

"Well, they're dead. But we found a headless one today." Beth said, her tone lighter than it probably should've been.

"Yeah, Rick told me 'bout it. He's workin' that case, but I'm assistin'. Didn't get out to the scene, though. Had a shootin' over round Vine City" Daryl said.

"Oh geez. Bet that wasn't pretty." Beth replied.

"They don't call it the worst neighborhood in Atlanta for nothin', Greene. They know me though, I worked vice for a while there." Daryl explained.

"I got lost over there once. But I lived in the dorms at Georgia Tech, and it wasn't much better over there." Beth said, taking a bite of string cheese.

"No, it ain't. C'mon," Daryl said, standing up, "We gotta go find us a killer."

Beth smiled, standing up herself. "Yes, Mr. Dixon."

Beth decided to dress like she could fit in, but still look presentable. She decided on a simple black dress with three-quarter sleeves, and strappy red high heels. She wore her hair long, and decided on minimal makeup; she didn't feel like making much of an effort, anyway. When she came out of her bedroom, she walked down the hall, getting Daryl's attention by inconspicuously clearing her throat. He looked up, and his eyes grew wide.

"Damn, Greene. Thought you said you weren't dressin' up." Daryl said.

"Oh, um, I didn't think this was too dressy." Beth said sheepishly, pulling at her dress.

"Well, ya look good. Let's go get somethin' to eat." Daryl said. Beth nodded, walking out behind him. Beth noticed that Daryl looked nice himself; with a plain gray button down shirt underneath a sport coat (which was obviously to hide his gun holster), with dark blue jeans. Beth noted he never did look like regular detectives; she always wondered why.

"Uh, Daryl?" Beth piped up.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"What's with the longer hair? I thought police detectives weren't supposed to have long hair?" Beth asked.

"I'm undercover sometimes, too. They still gimme hell, but I don't much listen." He replied.

"Jus' wonderin'. We takin' my car?" Beth asked.

"No, we're takin' my truck." Daryl said. He motioned to a silver Dodge Ram parked by the curb.

"Nice." Beth said, "But I think I may be too short to climb in."

"Don't worry 'bout it, I gotcha." Daryl muttered. He opened the passenger door for Beth as she struggled, her small 5'2" frame struggling to climb in the truck. Daryl huffed, and suddenly grabbed her by the hips, lifting her into the truck and closing the door. Beth could feel her cheeks grow hot, and she knew she was blushing. Had Daryl meant to do that?

"Figured I'd help you out." He mumbled, starting the truck. The two went to dinner at a small diner in a seedy part of town, Daryl assuring her that it was one of the best places in Atlanta. It turned out Daryl was right; it was the best chicken fried steak Beth had ever had. To a normal eye, they might've looked out of place; two well-dressed people in an almost run-down diner. But Beth enjoyed the company; Daryl didn't speak much, there was no awkward conversations or uncomfortable silences. Beth could say she enjoyed the meal in just a few words, sipping on sweet tea and gulping down mashed potatoes. It was oddly enjoyable, just going to dinner with someone who wasn't intending to get in her pants. By 8:45, Beth and Daryl had decided that it was time to get the check, and Daryl insisted he pay. Again, they walked to the truck, heading to Terminus, and Daryl helped Beth climb inside. When they arrived, the line was out the door, and Daryl shot Beth a dirty look.

"What? We don't want to look too suspicious." Beth shrugged.

"Suspicious? I'm a homicide cop and you're a morgue doctor." Daryl replied sharply.

"And a blood spatter analyst!" Beth added, her voice raising an octave.

"Oh, excuse me." Daryl rolled his eyes, raising his hands in the air, "You look at murder scenes like an art collector looks at an original Caravaggio."

"You know Caravaggio?" Beth asked.

"Master's in neuroscience, Greene." Daryl replied flatly. Beth stuck her tongue out in reply.

"Would you hurry your ass up and get outta the truck? We got questions to ask." Daryl said, motioning for her to hurry up. Beth jumped out of the truck, walking slightly behind Daryl. Getting up to the line, Beth could see that this Saturday night was college spirit night—which meant that Daryl was probably one of the oldest people in there.

"Aw hell. Youth." Daryl muttered as Beth walked up, rolling her eyes.

"It's not that bad. Just sorostitutes and frat hoes." Beth replied, shrugging her shoulders. Daryl shrugged as the two got closer to the door; the line moving rather quickly. Oddly enough, the bouncer only asked for Beth's ID, quickly surmising that Daryl was far past 21. He did, however, give Daryl a perplexed look as Daryl and Beth entered the club, Waka Flocka's "No Hands" blaring loudly as Daryl and Beth walked across the dance floor.

"I love this song!" Beth exclaimed, dancing terribly.

"Glad your Mama and Daddy didn't waste money on dancin' lessons." Daryl teased.

"Shut up, you ass!" Beth said, continuing to dance until they reached the bar.

"That's the worst song I ever heard, an' my nieces watch High School Musical." Daryl huffed.

"You're just jealous you don't have my moves." Beth replied.

"Yeah, you got dance moves like Britney Spears can sing." Daryl smirked, Beth playfully swatting him.

"Now listen, lemme do most of the talkin'. But I need ya takin' notes. Got it?" He asked. Beth nodded. They approached the bar, and a middle-aged man, busy pouring drinks, was the first to acknowledge them.

"Can I help you guys?" The man asked. Beth noticed he was of average height, with dark curly hair and olive skin. He wore a V-neck shirt, and looked to be trying too hard to fit in.

"Actually, ya can." Daryl said, showing the man his badge, "I'm Detective Daryl Dixon, this is my colleague, Dr. Beth Greene, we're with Atlanta Police Department."

The man looked up, smirking, "Oh yeah? Here about the fake Ids?"

"No. We're homicide." Daryl replied flatly. The man stood straight up, looking at them both.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Yeah. A man by the name of Randall Culver was just identified at the Fulton County Medical Examiner's office. Did you know him?" Beth asked.

"Randall? Randall was just here. He—he was my boss. He was my best friend. He got me this job." The man said, his eyes growing wide, his hands now running through his hair.

"So you knew him? When was the last time you saw him?" Daryl asked.

The man gulped hard. "R—Randall was supposed to go on vacation with his fiance and her family. They were supposed to be back tomorrow. They were headed to Pensacola."

"Have you heard from his fiance at all?" Daryl asked.

"No. I mean, Carleigh was my friend, but I assumed they'd been on vacation. She was supposed to be going on vacation with her uncle, and his wife, daughter, and his wife's sister. I think her mom was coming along, too." The man said, trying to recall events. Beth noted that his emotional demeanor was broken; obviously that man was his friend.

"Do you know if Randall would've had any enemies?" Daryl asked.

"Everyone liked him. I mean, he could be aggravating, but he was always a good friend. He helped people. I never met anyone who didn't like him, except for Carleigh's uncle." The man explained. Daryl and Beth looked at each other incredulously.

"Why didn't he like him?" Beth asked.

"He's a politician. He was kinda like Carleigh's dad, her own dad died when she was little. Her dad was her uncle's best friend, so her uncle's actually her godfather. He acted like Randall wasn't good enough; just some low-life bartender who was takin' advantage of Carleigh. But that wasn't how it was at all. She loved him, man, it was obvious. He loved her, too. Everyone else in the family loved Randall, too. Thing was, though, that uncle always thought Randall would hurt his image. He's runnin' for governor, I hear." The man told them.

"What's his name?" Daryl asked, "Any potential suspects, we gonna need to know their names."

"Brian Heriot. Carleigh's uncle is Brian Heriot."

The two of them froze, looking at each other with wide eyes, obviously flabbergasted.\

"Did I say something wrong?" The man asked.

"No, no man, ya didn't. Listen, here's my card, keep in touch. Can I get your name?" Daryl asked.

"Cody. Cody Carr." Cody said.

"Thanks, Cody, for all your help. If we need you, we'll call you. But you've been a lot of help. Thank you." Beth said, shaking Cody's hand.

"No problem. Listen, just do me a favor, okay? Find out who did this. Randall," The man choked, his eyes filled with tears, "He was the best friend a guy could ask for. Just, before you go, are you sure that was him? I got a text from him the other day, a picture of the just the beach. Are you sure it was Randall?"

"Yeah, Cody. We are. We had his dental records, his DNA. It was him." Beth said. Cody swallowed hard, looking up at Daryl and Beth.

"Then who was sending the picture?" Cody asked.

"We don't know. But we'll find out." Daryl promised.

"I hope you do." Cody said.

Daryl and Beth walked back through the dance floor, this time the song "Change Your Life" by Iggy Azalea blasting at around a billion decibels. Beth stopped, grabbing Daryl by the shoulders, a smile breaking out over her face.

"Daryl! This is my jam!" Beth exclaimed, beginning to sing the chorus and then the second verse.

"This is awful." Daryl said. '

"We paid the cover charge, might as well dance to at least one song. Please?" Beth begged, batting her eyes. Daryl gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Fine, doc. One dance. Then we leave. Kinda got a serial killer to deal with." Daryl reminded her. Beth stepped out into the middle of the floor, doing "the sprinkler" wildly. Daryl rolled his eyes, standing stationary, just watching Beth.

"C'mon Daryl, let's dance!" Beth said, doing what looked to Daryl to be the 'chicken dance'. Soon the song was over, another familiar club song, and Beth began dancing along to the "Wop".

"One song, Greene, this is more than one." Daryl said gruffly.

"This is my jam too, Dixon. Don't be a party pooper." Beth teased.

"I'm past party pooper. I'm at least fifteen years older than everyone in this damn place." Daryl said gruffly.

"Hush. You're bein' ridiculous." Beth laughed as the music blared.

"Well as much as I'd love to dick around here all night, I gotta go work on this. C'mon, let's go." Daryl said. Beth begrudgingly agreed, and walked out behind him. The two were barely out of the club when Beth felt her phone buzzing in her purse, and struggled to find it. Once she did, she noticed ten missed calls; all from Rick, Maggie, and Glenn. Beth knew something was wrong; Maggie never called her that many times. Then, Beth saw fifteen unread texts, all from Maggie.

"Daryl, I gotta call Maggie. Something's wrong." Beth said, panic growing in her chest.

"Everything alright?" Daryl asked.

"I dunno." Beth replied. She dialed Maggie's number, and there was no response. She dialed Glenn's, too, and there was nothing. She even tried Shawn, and Shawn wasn't answering. Finally, she called Rick.

"Rick? Rick! Thank God you answered. What's going on? What's the matter?" Beth asked frantically.

"Beth..." Rick sighed, a he seemed to be choking back a sob, "You need to come back home."

Beth felt her eyes begin to water. "Rick, what's the matter?" She asked.

"I'm...I'm gonna put Maggie on the phone." Rick said grimly. Beth heard him pass the phone to Maggie.

"Bethy? Bethy are you there?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah, Mags. What's wrong?" Beth asked.

"It's Mama." Maggie said. Beth felt her throat close up; her eyes began to water.

"What happened?" Beth asked.

"Mama...She...Had an aneurysm, Bethy. Just a few hours ago. It ruptured. Shawn found 'er." Maggie couldn't say anything more without crying. Beth fell to the pavement, sobbing loudly. Daryl crouched down next to her, taking the phone from her hands. He managed to speak to Rick, who seemingly told him everything.

"I'll get 'er down there. We'll be there in a couple of hours." Daryl said, hanging up. He picked Beth up as she continued to sob, her legs refusing to support her. All she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears, and all she could see were the blurry, tear smudged lights of Atlanta.

All she could think, as Daryl tried to pull her out of her haze, was that her mother was dead, and she wasn't there to save her.


	10. Chapter 10

**The reviews have been awesome!  
><strong>**Thank you for all the support, kind words, and follows. You guys are the best!**

**Also, just wanted to let you guys know that I chose the Greene's religious affiliation as church of Christ because that's what I am and it's really common in the South (I'm in the buckle of the Bible Belt). I didn't want to offend anyone who may be of the Baptist, Methodist, Episcopalian, or any other denomination, so I figured I'd go with what I know. If you have any questions, just message me (but please be kind). Thanks! And again, thanks for ALL of the support! Every review is read and treasured!**

**-Mandy**

* * *

><p>Chapter Ten:<p>

Beth couldn't recall Daryl driving her to her apartment. She also couldn't recall the bag she'd packed, or grabbing Jake and his food and water bowls. She couldn't recall Daryl helping her back out to the car, or the nearly hour long drive down to East Griffin where her family's farm was. She couldn't recall anything, really.

All she could think about were Maggie's words. How could her mother be gone? She had just talked to her the day before, and she was fine. All she could do was replay the conversation with Maggie, "She had an aneurysm." Annette was the reason Beth had survived after Lori's death. Annette taught Beth how to cook, how to sew and knit, how to play piano, how to read, and tie her shoes.

Beth couldn't fathom how her mother could simply be gone. She couldn't imagine a world without Annette Greene in it.

Daryl didn't say anything to Beth, except to ask for simple directions. When he turned on to the long gravel road that led to the Greene driveway, Beth could feel her throat closing up. She felt her heart beating rapidly in her ears. Evidently, Hershel and the rest of the family heard it as well, and headed out to meet her. Daryl quickly got out of the truck, opening the passenger door and helping Beth out. Maggie and Shawn ran toward her, both hugging her tightly as they sobbed.

"Bethy, we're so sorry." Maggie cried, her eyes swollen.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer." Beth cried, her small body racked with sobs.

"I—I was comin' home with Sadie, finalizin' the weddin' plans. I didn't hear anythin', Dad was gone, out tendin' to Duncan Fisher's dog—he'd been hit by a car. I came home an' Mama didn't answer. Then I found 'er, right in the kitchen." Shawn said, sobbing.

Beth continued to sob as Hershel came closer. His eyes, too, were red and swollen as he approached the three siblings. Carl, too, was there, Annette being the only grandmother he'd ever known. Beth wrapped him in a hug, holding him tightly as he sobbed. Rick, Glenn, and Sadie were all teary eyed, all having been impacted by Annette. She'd accepted them instantly, without question, loving them just as she did her own children. Annette was a gem, a saint of a woman, really, with a temper to boot. Beth took after her mother the most, with a temper worse than Maggie, Shawn, and Lori put together when she was tested. And now, the woman who took care of all of them was gone.

"Bethy, I'm so sorry we couldn't tell you sooner." Hershel whispered, his voice broken and ragged.

"Daddy, it's okay, really." Beth said, hugging him tightly, "I'm so sorry. I am."

"I am too, Bethy, Your mother was my best friend for thirty-five years. I've never met another woman like her, and I know I never will. I just wish it didn't have to happen this way. That's the thing about death, you're—you're just never ready for it." Hershel said, crying softly.

"Let's go inside—it's chilly out here. I'll make some coffee." Maggie said, grabbing Beth's hand in hers as they walked inside. Beth hadn't been home in nearly a month, only being able to call home because of the business of work. The old farm house still smelled of Annette; the scent of vanilla mixing with fresh, clean laundry detergent. It comforted Beth just a little, to smell the familiarity of her childhood. She noticed Daryl trailing just a few steps behind her, talking with Rick over something while looking at pictures. It seemed that Daryl had asked a question about a picture, and Rick was explaining it as Beth walked toward them.

"Yeah, I reckon Lori was sixteen when that picture was made. Beth was about seven, and she was always trailin' behind 'er. Even wound up takin' 'er on dates with us. But Lori never did mind, I didn't either. Beth was actually really fun." Rick chuckled softly. Daryl nodded.

"This one here, this is our wedding. And there's Beth. Lori tore her dress, and Beth couldn't find Annette anywhere, an' so Beth got 'er sewin' kit and fixed it herself. Couldn't even tell at all." Rick explained.

"And that one there, that's when Carl was born." Beth piped up, pointing toward a picture with her, Lori, and Maggie, with a newborn Carl in Lori's arms.

"How old was Lori then, Rick? She was nineteen, right?" Beth asked.

"We both were." Rick replied, "He was a bit of a surprise."

"But Mama was so, so happy. And she spoiled him rotten." Beth recalled, her eyes once again getting misty. Rick tentatively squeezed her shoulder as Daryl walked to her other side, silently standing next to her.

"I just can't believe I wasn't there." Beth cried, her voice cracking.

"You didn't know, Beth. Would it have made a difference?" Daryl asked, his voice soft.

"I don't know. I just didn't get to say goodbye." Beth said. She wiped her eyes, swallowing hard as she walked into the kitchen. She began to inexplicably grab mixing bowls, her mother's Kitchenaid mixer, flour, sugar, and other ingredients. She was going to do the only thing that came to her mind: she baked her mother's famous sugar cookies.

"Bethy, are you alright?" Glenn asked quietly, looking at her perplexed.

"Yep. I'm fine. Just fine." Beth said, mixing the ingredients together, "This dough needs to chill before I can roll it out. In the mean time, I'll clean this place up and make some lemonade. Y'all go rest."

"Beth, maybe you need to get some sleep." Daryl said, trying to help her dry a mixing bowl.

"No, no. Everyone else needs to sleep. _I _need to wash dishes." Beth replied, her eyes in a steely glare.

"Fine. I'll help ya then. But you're getting some sleep tonight." Daryl told her. Beth rolled her eyes and handed Daryl a drying towel.

"I hate funerals." Beth muttered, scrubbing a pot.

"Me too." Daryl replied.

"Everyone's always so sorry 'bout whoever it was that died, and everyone is always tryin' to tell you they know how you feel. Sometimes they do, but most of the time, they just don't. They really don't. An' quite frankly, I just don't wanna give Mama a big ol' funeral with all those flowers. I don't wanna see my mother in a casket, makeup done all to hell. But Shawn an' Maggie'll have a fit if we don't." Beth said, handing Daryl a just-washed spoon.

"I reckon they always make people feel better. They did when my mom died a few years back." Daryl said. Beth looked over to him, her mouth slightly ajar.

"Really?" Beth asked.

"Yeah. She had cancer. My dad—Dale—he drug her to every doctor in the south I reckon. Problem was, cancer had already moved to 'er liver an' 'er brain, she didn't have long. An' I knew she didn't, but I still didn't wanna say goodbye. Felt cheated for a long time." Daryl explained. Beth nodded her head, still in shock of the days events.

"Last time I talked to my mom, she was complainin' of this awful headache she had. I told her to take some aspirin, an' call me if it got worse. I should've been here." Beth said, her voice laced with guilt.

"Could you have saved her?" Daryl asked.

"If I'd known—if I'd seen the signs—we could've embolized the aneurysm. We could've done surgery, fixed the problem. If I'd known, I could've stopped it. I could have saved her. That's on me." Beth said, choking back a sob.

"No it ain't." Daryl said, perhaps a little too forcefully.

Beth looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and misty.

"These kinda things, you can't stop 'em or control 'em. You gotta believe that." Daryl told her.

"I can't!" Beth snapped, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm, "I let her down."

"No, you didn't." Daryl said. Beth didn't say anything; she just nodded. She put the dishes away and baked the cookies, then proceeded to clean. She cleaned until the sun came up, then she proceeded to do everyone's chores. She made Daryl sleep in her bedroom, and he awoke to find that Beth had already gathered eggs from the chicken coop, fed the horses and goats. When Daryl walked downstairs at 7:30 AM, he noticed she was making breakfast, and that coffee was already made.

"Mornin', Beth." Daryl mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Morning. Sleep well?" Beth asked.

"Your bed's nice. Your room is comfortable." Daryl replied.

"It is. I'm makin' French toast, bacon, eggs, sausage, and I've got juice and coffee, too, or hot chocolate if you want it." Beth said.

"Beth, you need to take it easy. You're gonna burn out." Daryl said, helping her with the dishwasher.

"No, Daryl. I didn't give anyone time to grieve last time—I only thought about myself. I can't do that. I need to take care of everyone else this time." Beth replied, finishing breakfast. Slowly, everyone came downstairs and into the kitchen, surprised to see Beth had made breakfast and set the table.

"Bethy, you didn't have to do all this." Maggie muttered.

"Yes, yes I do. I've already fed the horses and got the eggs. Cleaned the stalls, too." Beth replied.

"Bethy-bee, you've been busy. Why don't you take a rest." Hershel suggested.

"Nonsense, Daddy. I've got everything under control. Now y'all fix yourself a plate." Beth said, again cleaning.

"Bethy, we're goin' up to Elkins Funeral Home to make arrangements today. We'll be goin' at 11:30." Hershel said. Beth stopped, looking at her father.

"Already?" Beth asked.

"I'm afraid so. Brother Stokes will be preachin' her funeral. She'd asked me to make sure he did it a few years back. The funeral will be at the church of course." Hershel explained.

"Oh. Okay." Beth said. The group ate in relative silence, with Hershel blessing the food and Beth cleaning up immediately after. Maggie, Shawn, Glenn, and even Carl attempted to pitch in, but Beth refused to let them, making them all go watch television. The only person that was able to help was Daryl, and then even she made him go do something else. By 9:30, Daryl made Beth go and get ready to make funeral plans—it was something she was absolutely dreading. Burying her mother, and making plans to do so, was miserable. She shouldn't have to be.

Beth, Hershel, Maggie, Shawn, Rick, and Glenn all arrived at Elkins funeral home, and began to make plans for Annette's funeral. Just like they discussed, the funeral would be at the church Hershel, Annette, Shawn and Sadie still attended: Locus Grove Church of Christ, and Brother Gabriel Stokes would be officiating. Some of the ladies from church had arranged to feed everyone after the funeral in the church annex, and they'd all agreed that Annette would be buried in her favorite church dress; one she wore nearly every Sunday. It was a powder blue dress with a white shrug she wore with it, a string of pearls that Beth and Maggie had bought her usually around her neck. It was painful to make the plans, but it was even more painful for Beth to be treated like she'd break at any moment. That's why, when they arrived home, Beth went straight to cleaning again. She made dinner, baked more cookies, and then began calling people to let them know when the funeral would be. She also wrote Annette's obituary, having Maggie only edit it before they sent it to the newspaper. By the time that dinner rolled around, Beth pulled the roast out of the oven, and even served everyone on the "good" china. Everyone—especially Daryl who had taken a few days off of work—started to notice that Beth was just busying herself. She wasn't really sleeping or eating. She was just trying to do everything Annette had done and then some. Finally, at around 9:00, everyone started going to bed; the visitation was the next day at the funeral home and they all needed the rest. Daryl, however, noticed that Beth's energy levels weren't dropping.

"Beth, you need to sleep." He said as she was sweeping the back porch.

"I can't, Daryl. Isn't that easy." Beth replied, taking the broom inside and immediately starting on laundry.

"You're gonna crash. You need sleep." Daryl said. Beth didn't listen; she just kept working. Daryl could see that she had dark circles under her eyes, and she was remarkably pale. He decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Hey! Doctor Greene! I need to speak with you!" Daryl said, finding Hershel in his study.

"What can I do for ya, son?" Hershel asked, looking up over the top of his glasses.

"Beth ain't okay." Daryl said.

"No, I'm afraid she isn't. You noticed too, huh?" Hershel asked.

"I did. I don't think she's slept at all. I know she hasn't eat much. We gotta get 'er to at least sit down." Daryl said, running his hands through his hair.

"I was worried she might do this. When Lori died, she went nearly catatonic; I think she feels guilty about that now. She's tryin' to take care of everyone, an' she's not takin' care of herself. Come with me, I've got something you can give 'er." Hershel said, motioning for Daryl to follow him. They went to Hershel's bathroom upstairs, and Hershel opened the medicine cabinet, opening a small orange pill bottle.

"This is a sleep aid. Crush up this Ativan and put it in her milk. She'll calm down and go to sleep. She needs it." Hershel said. Daryl nodded, crushing up the pill with some of the compounding tools Hershel kept in the downstairs bathroom, and pouring the contents into a big glass of milk, just as he'd been instructed. Daryl poured himself a glass of milk in a cup of a different color, so perhaps Beth wouldn't quite pick up on the fact that he was drugging her. Surprisingly, it was actually quite easy to offer Beth a glass of milk.

"Hey. I uh, know this might be weird, but whenever I'm upset, I drink a lot of milk. It helps." Daryl muttered, offering Beth the drugged glass.

"Thanks." Beth said, biting her lip, "I love milk."

"Good to know." Daryl replied, watching her gulp down the entire glass in seconds. He knew soon she'd start to slow down, per what Hershel told him. Sure enough, within thirty minutes, she was slowing; her eyelids becoming heavy as she stopped to "take a break" ironing clothes.

"Y'alright, Greene?" Daryl asked.

"I just feel sleepy all of a sudden." Beth mumbled. Then, as if connecting the dots in her head, her eyes widened, and traces of anger filled her face.

"You drugged me, didn't you, Daryl Dixon?" Beth asked, trying to fight the grogginess.

"Dunno what you're talkin' 'bout, Greene." Daryl replied.

"You! Let me guess: either Ativan or Mirtazipine, right? Work quick, especially when put in something like milk? I didn't start getting sleepy till you gave it to me!" Beth exclaimed.

"Greene, you need to get some sleep. You're dad suggested it." Daryl mumbled.

"You don't trust me, do you?" Beth asked.

"I trust you, Beth, but you're gonna crash 'n burn an' ya ain't gonna be no use to anyone." Daryl told her.

She just rolled her eyes before yawning loudly. "I'm too tired to fight you now, Daryl. But this isn't over! I'm gonna be pissed tomorrow!"

"Be pissed. But right now, you need to sleep." Daryl said. He helped her up the stairs; her motor skills becoming a little skewed as the medicine kicked in. Beth was frustrated; Daryl could see it, and he couldn't blame her. But he helped her into her old bedroom; still decorated the way it was when she moved out. He helped her into bed, pulling the covers up and watching as she fell asleep within seconds.

* * *

><p>Beth awoke several hours later in a panic, knowing that Annette's visitation was later that evening. She checked the time; 8:00, and ran downstairs, her hair a mess, still wearing the clothes she was last night.<p>

"Daddy? Maggie? Glenn? Where are y'all?" She asked, headed to the kitchen.

"They're out back, feedin' the horses an' goats." Daryl said. He motioned for her to sit down at the table and she did, sitting in Annette's favorite spot. Daryl handed her a plate of toast and a glass of cranberry juice.

"You still pissed?" He asked, as Beth took a bite of toast.

"You drugged me. You and my dad drugged me." Beth replied sharply.

"Ya needed the rest. You were runnin' yourself into the ground. You're a doctor, Beth. You of all people should know that isn't something you do." Daryl explained.

Beth bit her lip, "I can't do what I did after Lori, Daryl. I just can't."

"Jus' don't pull that shit anymore, alright? Take care of yourself." Daryl said.

"Promise." Beth replied.

"Good." Daryl said. Soon, the rest of the family came in, each eating toast and bagels, and other small things that members of the church had brought for them. Maggie sat down next to Beth, smiling weakly, her eyes not the normal, vibrant green that they had been.

"Hey Bethy-bee." Maggie greeted.

"Mornin' Maggie-May." Beth replied.

"Mama's obituary came out today." Maggie sad sadly, handing Beth the paper.

"Did it? I wanna read it." Beth said, opening the paper to the "obituaries" section.

"Bethy, why don't you read it for us? I haven't read it yet." Hershel suggested. Beth swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. Beth felt Rick walk behind her, pressing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at everyone and then down at the paper, and began to read the words that she'd written in honor of her dearly loved mother:

"Annette Vivian Greene, 55, of East Griffin, died Friday, September 5th, after sudden stroke caused by a brain aneurysm. Mrs Greene is proceeded in death by her parents, Kenneth (Kenny) Jackson and Beatrice (Bea) Jackson, both of Orchard Hill, GA. She is also proceeded in death by her brother and sister-in-law, John and Cathy Jackson, of Orchard Hill, her sister, Martha Walker of Birmingham, AL, and her daughter, Lori Grimes, of Atlanta, GA.

Mrs. Greene, a lifelong native of King County, grew up in Orchard Hill, and graduated from King County High School in 1977. It was then that she moved to Auburn, Alabama, where she attended Auburn University, majoring in elementary education. While attending Auburn, she met Hershel Greene, who was in his last year of veterinary school at Auburn. The two married in 1979, in Hershel's hometown of East Griffin at the Locust Grove church of Christ. After Annette graduated from Auburn in 1981, and the two moved back to King County. Just a year later, Annette and Hershel adopted Annette's niece, Lori, after the deaths of Annette's brother and sister-in-law. In 1985, Annette and Hershel welcomed their son, Shawn. In 1988, Annette and Hershel welcomed their daughter, Margaret (Maggie) to their family. In 1991, their youngest, Elizabeth (Beth) was born. Annette loved being a mother and wife, and treasured making memories with her four children. She continued to teach school at King County Elementary, teaching kindergarten and first grade, and winning 'Teacher of the Year' award eight different years during her 33 year teaching career. Students loved her, and she loved her students. She was an active member at Locust Grove church of Christ, teaching Sunday School for 33 years, organizing vacation bible schools, and participating in mission trips to Mexico, Haiti, and even helped build two schools in the Honduras. She loved music, and taught all of her children how to play the piano.

Though tragedy occurred in her life several times, Annette will always be remembered as having hope. She will be remembered for making the best out of bad situations, and encouraging her family to do the same. And, though she deeply loved her family, they take comfort in knowing that she is reunited with her parents, two of her siblings, and her precious daughter, Lori, whom she has missed since her death two years ago.

Annette is survived by her loving husband of thirty-five years, Dr. Hershel Greene of East Griffin, GA, her children, Shawn Greene (Sadie) of Griffin, GA, Maggie Rhee (Glenn) of Atlanta, GA, Beth Greene, of Atlanta, GA, and son-in-law, Rick Grimes, of Atlanta, GA, two grandchildren, Carl and Judith Grimes, two siblings, June Predmore and Jim Jackson, both of Orchard Hill, and several nieces and nephews.

The funeral will be Monday, September 8th, at 12:00 pm at Locust Grove church of Christ with Brother Gabriel Stokes officiating, with a burial at East Griffin Cemetery. Pall bearers will be Rick Grimes, Glenn Rhee, Carl Grimes, Shawn Greene, Daryl Dixon, and Sheriff Shane Walsh."

Beth looked up, noting that Maggie had obviously changed who the pall bearers were. "Daryl? Since when are you gonna be a pall bearer?" Beth asked.

"Your cousin Luke couldn't do it. Hershel asked me to." Daryl replied.

"And Shane is gonna be a pall bearer?" Beth asked, rather irritated.

"Beth, you know as well as I do that Shane is still a family friend." Maggie replied.

"He's my ex-boyfriend." Beth snapped.

"Jim couldn't do it either." Maggie said.

"And why not?!" Beth asked, "Why couldn't Jim come carry 'is sister's casket?!"

"'Cause Jim's got cancer, Beth!" Maggie hissed. Beth sat back in her chair.

"Jim's got cancer and the chemo makes 'im sick. He didn't want anyone to know, 'specially not now." Maggie added, "He only told Mama a few days ago."

"Why didn't he tell 'er sooner?" Beth asked.

"Didn't want 'er to worry. That was his baby sister." Shawn said, "Dad only told us yesterday."

"Oh." Beth muttered, her head lowering.

Maggie pat her on the back, "He'll be at the funeral. Luke can't take leave from Fort Campbell, though. He wanted to be there, but he can't. That's why Daryl and Shane are pall bearers."

"You'd better tell Shane to mind his manners." Beth growled, standing up.

"We will, Beth. I'll keep an eye on 'im." Rick promised. Beth nodded, and then went up to her room. She just needed a few minutes alone, but she didn't prepare for the knock on the door. When she opened it, she expected it to be Daryl. Instead, however, it was Carl and Judith.

"Carl? What're you doin' up here?" Beth asked.

"Aunt Beth, I wanted to talk to you." Carl said, setting Judith down so she could run up to Beth.

"Hi, my Beffy! Don't be sad." Judith said, giving Beth a sloppy kiss.

"What'd you wanna talk to me about, Carl?" Beth asked.

"I remember when my mom died, and I didn't get to say goodbye either. I know it sucks." Carl said, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, it does." Beth replied. Carl sighed heavily.

"I know everyone thinks you're gonna check out again. I don't, though. You're stronger now." Carl told her. Beth looked up.

"You think so?" She asked.

"You're a doctor now, Aunt Beth. You work with my dad. You're strong. I know you can do this. Thing is, I think it's your turn to keep everyone else strong. Especially Uncle Shawn. And especially Poppa." Carl said.

"Thanks, Carl." Beth said.

"And, I also wanna talk to you, 'cause I think you'll listen." Carl added.

"Yeah?" Beth asked.

"I don't think we should wear black. Nana didn't like it. I think we should wear her favorite colors tonight and tomorrow. Blue, yellow, green. All her favorites. She was always happy. We miss her, we all do, but that's no reason to make her whole funeral something dark. It wasn't her." Carl said. Beth thought a moment, and then smiled. Carl was so much like Lori.

"Yeah, Carl. I love that idea." Beth said. Carl smiled. Beth enjoyed being with Carl and Judith, their innocence made her smile. Beth convinced the rest of the family to go along with Carl's idea—to celebrate Annette and her love for bright, happy things. So, for the visitation that night, everyone wore bright colors; Maggie wearing a bright green dress, Beth wearing a light turquoise dress, Shawn wearing a white shirt with a purple tie, and Hershel wearing a yellow dress shirt. Rick, Glenn, Carl, Shawn, and Daryl all wore colored ties, and Judith wore a bright pink dress that Annette had just made for her, something that Beth loved. Beth didn't want to go to the funeral home that night, but for some reason, having Daryl there helped. She rode there with him, and he walked next to her as they entered. She didn't want to do this, but she had to. For everyone.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, the visitation was over. Beth had said her fair share of "thank yous" to everyone, and the visitation lasted an hour longer than it was supposed to. When they arrived at home that night, Beth almost didn't want to walk in. She halfway expected Annette to be making supper, but she knew she'd never see her mother's bright, happy green eyes again.<p>

That part pained her.

So, she sat outside in the old porch swing, the very one she used to sit with her mother in. She sobbed quietly, not wanting anyone to see her cry. Suddenly, she heard the screen door swing, and she saw Daryl's silhouette sneaking through the door.

"Hershel said you were out here." Daryl muttered.

"Yeah, he always knows." Beth said, rolling her eyes.

"You okay?" Daryl asked.

"Jus' tired of losin' people, that's all." Beth replied.

Daryl sat down next to her, stretching out. "When Irma died, that wasn't the first time I lost a mom." Daryl said, almost so low that Beth couldn't hear.

"What?" Beth asked. Daryl nodded.

"I reckon I was 'bout seven. My mom liked to smoke in bed. One day, I was out playin' with the neighborhood kids, an' they all went runnin' toward some sirens we heard. When I got there, I realized the sirens were at my house. That was my mom in bed. Burnt down to nothin'. Wasn't anythin' left." Daryl said.

"They took 'er out before I could see 'er, ya know? She was always my best friend. Always wanted to be like 'er." Beth said, "It was so soon."

"It's always too soon." Daryl replied.

"I thought Mama would see me get married, see me have babies. But I thought Lori would, too. I miss 'em, Daryl. My family, those were my friends. I don't really have anyone else." Beth cried.

"Ya got me." Daryl said. Beth looked up, a weak smile coming to her face.

"I do. Why are you so nice to me, Daryl?" Beth asked, tears streaming down her face.

"Cause you're worth bein' nice to, Greene." Daryl replied. Beth leaned her head on Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl laid his chin on the top of Beth's head, and for the first time in a long time, Beth felt at peace. She hadn't had that feeling in quite a while, and it struck her, while they were there. In that moment of tragedy and sadness, Beth Greene realized something:

She was falling in love with Daryl Dixon, the man she'd previously hated, and she had no idea why. But she knew that she was falling for him, suddenly, all at once, and she had no idea what to do.


End file.
